


Strip Snap

by Lilachigh



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-29
Updated: 2013-07-15
Packaged: 2017-12-13 08:21:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 67,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/822102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilachigh/pseuds/Lilachigh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This story starts in a light-hearted mood - it is Buffy's birthday, Dawn has evoked the spell keeping everyone inside the house and Buffy and Spike are playing cards behind the sofa.....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One Question

Strip Snap by Lilachigh

 

Chapter One: One Question

Season Six - Buffy’s 21st birthday in Older and Far Away. During the long evening, we see Buffy and Spike sitting together on the floor playing cards – and so we begin…..we have very long and difficult road ahead although the first few steps are so easy....

 

"Bloody hell, Slayer, you can’t take off just one ear-ring! That‘s cheating."

"Oh, so taking one bootlace out of one boot, isn’t?"

"It’s strip snap. Whoever looses takes off one thing they’re wearing. I offered to take off my pants just now, remember?"

Buffy glared and hastily looked round to make sure no one else had heard, but they all seemed busily occupied, as they had done for hours now. "Be quiet! Someone will hear."

Spike cynically raised an eyebrow and shuffled the pack. "Oh and we mustn’t let anyone know about us, must we? Can’t offend their dainty sense of morality. I suppose you stripping naked in front of me won’t get their attention?"

"Huh! I won’t be stripping. I can beat you at anything, Spike. Including cards. Just because I don’t know how to play poker doesn’t mean - "

"You’re going to beat me, are you?" He reached up to tentatively touch the bruising round his eye. "Reckon you’ve already done that, pet."

Buffy flinched. She didn’t want to remember punching him almost senseless the other night. "I meant I intend to win. Deal the cards."

She watched, fascinated as his long fingers shuffled and cut the pack, then dealt them out swiftly on the floor between them. There was something about his hands - god, it was getting warm in here - whenever she caught sight of them, she could recall how he used them on her body - and inside your body, too, a little voice whispered hotly.

He looked up sharply, nostrils flaring and she knew he’d smelt her arousal. His lips twitched slightly, then he looked alarmed and uncomfortable and she giggled as she watched his erection swelling under the denim of his jeans. That must really hurt, she though proudly. Good!

"Are you sure you wouldn’t rather play with Dickhead over there," he drawled, gesturing to the young man she insisted on calling her boyfriend.

"His name is Richard," Buffy hissed, picking up her cards. "You know damn well it is."

"Buffy swore! Buffy swore!" he teased. "You have to pay a forfeit. Take off something right now."

"That’s not part of the game!" she grumbled, but at the triumphant look on his face, she grudgingly took out the second ear-ring and giggled at his cross expression.

"OK, strip snap isn’t going to work - at least not here where it‘s so public," Spike said regretfully. "Come round to the crypt tomorrow night and we’ll play it properly."

Buffy concentrated on the cards she was holding. She refused to meet his sapphire blue gaze because she knew she would dissolve into a messy puddle if she did. "Oh, I don’t know, Spike. I might be busy," she said airily, wishing her voice didn’t sound so squeaky.

"Oh, I promise you will be, Slayer," he drawled, reaching out to touch her bare ear lobe. "You’re going to be very busy doing just what I tell you to do to me. You’re going to work your socks off. You’re going to - ’ He leant forward and whispered - ‘take me in your mouth, run your pretty pink tongue - "

"Let’s play something else!" she broke in before she surrendered and flung herself on top of him and damn everybody else in the room. It was her party, after all.

His lips twitched as I tried not to smile, then, "Okay - whoever wins a snap gets to ask a question."

Buffy stared at him suspiciously. "What sort of question?"

Spike shrugged innocently. "Oh, anything at all, Slayer."

"And the looser has to answer?"

"Oh yes. And truthfully."

"OK."

The cards slapped down on the floor - then "Snap!" Spike’s hand shot out and covered two aces. "Mine. Right - " he looked at her tense body, knew she was expecting something really difficult, "Are you having a nice birthday?" he said gently.

He could see her visibly relax. "Yes, thank you. It’s been great."

Ten more cards fell, then "Snap! My turn again.. Ummm - Do you enjoy being the Slayer?"

Buffy looked at him sharply, but his face was bland, his eyes shadowed by the dark lashes that were ridiculously and annoyingly thick for a man. Did she enjoy being the Slayer? Faith had enjoyed being one. So had Kendra. "I enjoy...I enjoy helping people," she replied slowly. "I think....I think I like the power, but all the rest of it, the killing, the dying, never having a nice, normal life like other girls my age - not so much!"

She picked up the cards and let them run through her fingers. "I’m twenty-one today, Spike. Let’s face it, the likelihood of me seeing thirty-one is remote. I want to stay around long enough to see Dawn become independent, but everything else - " She shrugged and glanced round. Time seemed to have stood still this evening. She hadn’t meant to speak so freely to Spike. He had that effect on her sometimes. He was looking at her now, and she had the feeling he could read her mind. Twenty-one. In all the fuss, Buffy hadn’t really thought about the figures. Some girls of her age were married and mothers by now. Married! That was a joke. And as for motherhood - well, she’d long ago realised that wasn’t on any agenda she could think up.

She found herself returning Spike’s gaze and for a minute, she could see in her imagination a little boy with bright blue eyes laughing up at her and a little girl with long blonde hair and dark eyebrows. But they were only in her imagination and she knew that’s where they would stay.

"Play again," she said, breaking the spell. The next two cards laid were a snap. Hers. What on earth could she ask him? Then, without thinking, she heard herself say, "Do you ever regret being a vampire?"

Spike’s hands stilled on the cards he was holding. "Difficult one, luv."

"You said anything. If it’s too hard for you, of course....."

"William was a nice enough bloke, but weak. Always trying to help people who didn’t want to be helped, getting pushed around by friends and family, always falling for the wrong girls."

He paused and Buffy was about to say, ‘Nothing much has changed then!’ but something - the look in his eyes, perhaps, the tension around his mouth, stopped her.

"William would probably have married some sweet, ineffectual, plain young lady, who was about to be left on the shelf and desperate to have a husband, any husband. She wouldn’t have understood him, but he would have loved her because she was his wife. They’d have had little money, lived in gentile poverty and raised a brood of children, one after the other, and most of them would have died before their second birthdays."

Buffy put down her cards and, without thinking, reached out to take his hand. "But William and his wife would have been happy, wouldn’t they? They’d have enjoyed raising the children left to them."

Spike looked at her strangely. "Happy? Who knows." He paused again. He realised that he spoke about William as if he was someone he’d once known, not himself. But William had been him and for a few seconds he wondered what a son of his would have been like, what it would have felt like to hold a daughter in his arms and know that his blood would run through their children’s veins for centuries to come. He shook his head to break the mood. "Dru rescued me from all that. She gave me eternity, love, passion and, even though I hate to say it in present company, she gave me another family."

"Angel and Darla," Buffy whispered. 

"The Mick and his lady love, that’s right, Goldilocks. Never liked him, but as people say, you can choose your friends, not your family! So, to answer your question, no, I’ve no regrets. I’ve seen things, done things, met people, lived life to the full and regret nothing. I can’t say I’m too happy with the chip in my bonce, and I may be only a stake away from dust, but - "

"If you had a soul you’d regret....." Buffy started to say.

Spike laughed. "A soul? Bloody hell, Slayer, give us a break, I’ve seen what a soul has done to Peaches. So have you! What on earth would I want one of those for?"

And Buffy laughed. She didn’t know what had made her think about that. Spike with a soul. Big joke.

But as he dealt another hand of cards and she glanced round the room at her family and friends, she wondered exactly what they’d be all be doing this time the following year....

Two days after her twenty-first birthday, Buffy collapsed wearily onto her bed and threw her greasy smelling orange uniform as far across the room as she could. She needed a shower; the desire to wash her hair was overwhelming, but the effort required to get into the bathroom seemed impossible.

She looked at her thin tanned legs and wondered if her ankles were swelling from standing on them for such ages. She needed to paint her toenails, she realised vaguely. There hadn’t been time for pedicures recently. As long as she was clean, that was all that mattered. She could remember a time when she’d spent hours in the bathroom with soaps and lotions. Once she and Willow had painted every nail they had a different color. But not now.

The night shift at the Doublemeat Burger Bar had been very long and very busy. Her face ached from the false smile that had been stretched across it for hours. And why were people so rude? Why did they come into a burger bar and stand for ages just gazing at all the little pictures above the counter as if they’d never seen a burger before? So many of them were regulars, she always knew what they would finally have, but still they stood and looked. And you always had to smile and be pleasant when in reality she had a mad desire to pour the boiling fat over their silly heads.

She still had to patrol this evening, so perhaps she’d do that and shower when she got back. "I’ll be all hot and sweaty again," she thought and firmly pushed away thoughts of how she might be even hotter and sweatier if she went to see Spike at his crypt.

Even though it was only Spike - and hey, evil, dirty thing remember - she felt too grubby and smelly to let even him touch her tonight. But, oh god, how she wanted him to. Even under the tired, aching muscles and bone weariness, she could feel a hot quivering glow of anticipation as her body - against her will - remembered just what he did to it.

“No! Just patrolling. Then shower and bed,” she muttered and pulled open her closet door to find some clean jeans.

“What in the name of - ?” Right in front of her eyes was something on a hanger, wrapped in polythene. There was a large piece of paper pinned to the front of it. WEAR THIS. BE OUTSIDE IN FIFTEEN MINUTES. HURRY!

Buffy tore off the wrapping and gasped. The dress floated. A tight white lace bodice had sapphire velvet ribbons criss-crossing, pulling the neckline into some form of modesty. There were little white feathers all around the edge of the neckline and sleeves. The skirt was layers of white lace and silk. It looked old and was probably the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.

She reached out to touch it with gentle fingers. She didn’t need to guess who the note was from and she had no doubt, whatsoever, that if she put it on it would fit her. Spike had spent hours running his hands over her body. He knew every curve, every inch of her, intimately.

“I’m too dirty,” she whispered to herself. “I’ll ruin it.” But even as she spoke she was heading for the shower.

Ten minutes later, her hair still wet but at least clean, she had pulled on the dress and stood gazing at herself in the mirror. She didn’t recognise the woman who looked back her her; big green eyes in a pale face, hair piled up in tangles on top of her head, her breasts pushed up by the bodice into creamy mounds as she tightened the blue ribbons and the little white feathers tickled her skin in a sudden breeze -

“You look ravishing, sweetheart! Makes me want to ravish you!”

She didn’t move. She was still the only person she could see in the mirror, but knew from the feel of his breath on her bare neck, that he was standing behind her.

“It’s the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen!” she whispered. She turned round into his arms, and gasped as he bent his head and dropped a line of tiny kisses along her collar bone.

“Not as beautiful as the person wearing it,” he murmured and pulled her damp hair down into a cascade of blonde tangles. “You didn’t come down to me,” he said, brushing stray strands back from her cheek. “I told you to hurry.”

"I had to shower. I was all Doublemeaty. And where are we going, Spike? I can’t possibly patrol in this dress.”

“I’ve already done a patrol for you tonight. Three demons, done and dusted, luv. Must admit I didn’t hunt too closely for vamps. Thought I’d leave that for you tomorrow. Tonight - well, tonight is just for us. Come on!”

“Spike - I’ve got no shoes!”

“Don’t need shoes where we’re going!” And before she could protest, he swung her up in his arms and carried her out of the window and swung down the tree branches to the ground. The grass felt cool under her bare feet as Spike put her down, her damp hair deliciously cool on her neck. 

There was an old open-topped car in the road. Spike scooped her up again, ignoring her protests and dropped her in the passenger seat. Then he was by her side, the engine was roaring and they were away into the moonlit night.

“Spike, what are we doing? It’s so late.”

He raised an eyebrow at her and reached over to run a finger across her bare shoulder. She shuddered under his touch.

“You said at your birthday party that you missed being a normal girl. I didn’t bring you a gift then, so this is my present to you, sweetheart. A normal evening, doing normal things. No worries, no responsibilities, no problems. Just you and me.”

“Spike! Are you taking me on a date?”

He laughed. “Bloody well call it what you like, Slayer. Just enjoy it.”

She lay back on the warm leather seat and, for the first time since her mother had died, felt herself relaxing, the weariness draining out of her bones, every muscle becoming pliant and soft, the tension vanishing. For once she didn’t have to make a decision, be in command. Someone else was in charge. No one was expecting her to be the leader. Tonight no one knew where she was or what she was doing. it was a heady experience - like drinking ice cold champagne on an empty stomach.

This evening was so unexpected, so ridiculous, it was hard not to laugh. The rush of air in her face, the growling of the engine, the feel of Spike next to her, knowing she could reach out and touch him if she wanted. Why did his presence reassure her so much? What was it about this vampire that made her world glow when he was in it? She didn’t love him. She refused to believe she could love somebody without a soul. But this - connection - they had, confused and bewildered her. The sex was fabulous; she wasn’t naive enough to deny that, but she also knew it was more than lust, more than passion. But what was it? He’d once told her she would crave him, that he was in her blood and now, she realised, he was right.

Twenty miles on and they were pulling off the road and bumping up a dirt track, through some open metal gates, and on into thick, dark woodland, the headlights catching the green gleam from the eyes of small animals crouching in the undergrowth.

“The woods are lovely, dark and deep, but I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep,” she heard Spike quote to himself under his breath. “And miles to go before I sleep.”

She turned to gaze into his face. He often quoted poetry, she realised. He’d done it for a long time, especially when he and Giles were together. She’d never thought about his education before. It was odd to wonder about a William at school as a small boy, perhaps graduating from some posh English college before he met Drusilla on the streets of London one dark night. At least she knew the poem he was quoting now, “Robert Frost,” she murmured.

“A great American poet, luv.”

Then they were out of the woods and Buffy realised they were driving along a sandy shore by the side of a lake. “Where are we, Spike? I had no idea there was a lake near Sunnydale.”

“That’s because you can’t see it from the road. It’s on private property. Belongs to some movie star.”

“What!" Buffy sat upright in shock. “Then we’re trespassing. Spike, turn round and get us out of here.”

“Relax, Slayer. No one is going to know,” he replied calmly as he stopped the car and turned off the lights.

The darkness swallowed them up, then as her eyes began to adjust, the moon sailed out from behind a small cloud and she gasped. The lake lay blackly in front of her with a silver path of moonlight stretching clearly to the other side. The water rippled slightly in the soft breeze and it was as if a sheet of starlight was being shaken over the wavelets.

Before she could speak, Spike had swung her up into his arms. As her head fell against his shoulder, he bent to kiss her. She twisted her fingers up into the platinum curls, tugging on them to get his mouth even closer to hers, making little meowing noises at the back of her throat, desperate for the contact to continue.

His tongue ran softly over hers, tangling, teasing, promising much, then leaving her gasping for more. “Later,” he growled. “Be patient! I promise, you’re going to have an evening you’re never, ever going to forget.”

And he carried her down to the shore line. There was a small rowing boat pulled up onto the shingle. Spike laid her down on some cushions in the stern and jumping in, began to row them slowly but steadily down the path of moonlight towards the far shore.

to be continued


	2. Normal Girls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spike has taken Buffy on a midnight picnic! What can possibly go wrong?

Strip Snap by Lilachigh

 

Chp 2 Normal Girls

 

Drops of water cascaded like silver rain from the tips of the oars as Spike rowed them out across the moonlit lake. Buffy lay back on a pile of cushions in the stern of the boat, trailing her hand in the water. ‘Where did you learn to row?” she murmured, watching in lazy delight the pull of the muscles in his arms and shoulders under his black tee shirt.

Spike smiled at her, his teeth a white gleam in the darkness. “Oh you learn all sorts of things when you’ve been around as long as I have, pet. But rowing - well, I learnt how to punt when I was a student at Cambridge - at the university. But that’s far harder than it looks. If you’re not clever you can end up clinging to the bloody pole in the middle of the river while your lady love floats away down stream in the bloody boat! So I stuck to rowing.”

Buffy smiled. She liked the way Spike could make jokes about himself. Angel had never mentioned the man he’d been before he became a vampire. She knew he’d been called Liam and lived in Ireland, but little else.

She stretched out her legs, watching the white feathers on the hem of her dress flicker in the breeze. Her bare feet reached Spike’s legs. She realised he’d kicked off his boots when he got in the boat and she rubbed her toes against his as they pushed against the wooden slats.

“Minx!” Spike growled. “If I catch a crab with the oars, you can swim for the shore, missy.”

Buffy tossed her head. “Don’t tell me that a few little toes can put you off your stroke?”

Spike hissed and she watched in glee as the material round his groin suddenly stretched under extreme pressure. “You’ve never complained about my stroke before,” he said, shifting uncomfortably on the wooden seat.

“Well, they say practice makes perfect!” Buffy said, wondering where on earth flirty Buffy had come from. What was it about Spike that made her so relaxed? Why didn’t it matter what she said to him? She realised that she never had to think before she spoke. When she’d been with Riley, she’d always sort of edited her words before they left her mouth, worried that she might upset him in some way, behave in some way that would offend or bother him. With Spike she could say or do what she liked.

But was that how normal girls behaved? Buffy bit her lip. She wasn’t a normal girl, but she wanted to be. She dreamt of a normal life, even though she knew she’d never have one. Surely normal girls tried to be as nice as they could be for their boyfriends. Being the Slayer shouldn’t give her any right to be a flirt or a bitch. If anything, she should surely make more of an effort to be normal? But with Spike - things were complicated, different. And tonight - she took a deep breath and relaxed - she wouldn’t worry about it. Tonight was Spike’s idea of normal, carved out of a dream, a fantasy and she was going to enjoy it - whatever happened.

As he rowed, Spike watched the emotions chasing each other across her face. He knew her so well, guessed what was going on in her busy mind. He loved the way she fought with herself. The flirting, the giggling, all so natural to his Slayer, then the worry that she shouldn’t do any of that, then the slight shrug of her shoulders, the way her creamy breasts heaved as she took a deep breath and decided that she would do what she wanted, for tonight, anyway.

Spike frowned. He’d wanted this evening to be normal for her, but in his heart of hearts he knew it wasn’t. How would he know how to give a girl a normal evening? He’d been around for too many years, seen too much, done too much. He was a vampire without a soul and the girl he loved was the Slayer. So not much normal there, he thought dryly. He dug the oars in savagely and the little boat jerked forward through the water, shattering the golden ribbon of moonlight that lay across the black water.

“Where are we going?” Buffy asked at last, dreamily gazing out into the darkness.

“Late supper,” Spike replied, his bad mood instantly vanishing at the sight of her relaxed face.

“Spike, even you can’t conjure up a restaurant in the middle of a lake.”

The vampire glanced over his shoulder, pulled hard with one oar and swung the boat round a little. Buffy realised that the darkness she’d been looking at was, in fact, the darkness of a thickly wooded island. There was the softest shimmer of light where the sandy beach edged down to the water. With one more thrust, Spike drove the boat up onto the beach, leapt out and pulled it higher up, out of the wavelets.

He picked Buffy up and carried her in his arms through the sand and up into the shelter of the tree line. When he put her down she could feel soft grass cool under her feet. She shivered slightly in the night breeze and heard leaves rustling around her.

“Stay still, Slayer,” Spike whispered and left her standing in the dark.

For a second she stood swaying until her eyes got used to the black and she began to see vague images. Then there was the flick of a lighter and there was Spike, sprawled in front of her on a rug, lighting two squat blood red candles in deep bronze dishes. The flames leapt up, casting flickering shadows across his face. 

Buffy felt something dark and primitive stir within her. She stepped forward and sank down next to him, watching, fascinated as he pulled a wicker picnic hamper out from under a bush behind him.

“We didn’t have champagne at your birthday party, Goldilocks,” he said. “Thought that was a pity. Every girl should have champagne on her 21st birthday.”

“Do I get to drink it out of a silver goblet?” Buffy whispered as he twisted the foil top with brutally strong fingers and the cork gave way without a fight, the same way she always did when those same fingers pried apart the most private parts of her body, slid in and out, rubbing, petting, goading her over and over again into a shuddering, shaking, screaming.....

Spike grinned at her. “Sorry, pet, plastic tumblers were all I could get at short notice.” He poured the bubbles out and pressed the cold tumbler into her hand. His gaze never left her face as he raised his own drink. She’d never seen him with this expression before - so blatantly happy, so intensely passionate. It scared her.

She, the Slayer who was frightened of nothing and no one usually, was frightened that she could cause a man - even a dead one - this sort of pleasure. No man had ever looked at her like this before. With love, perhaps, affection, tenderness. But never this all consuming desire. It didn’t make sense. She was the girl men left, not the girl who caused this blizzard of violent feelings.

“A toast, sweetheart. Happy birthday, Buffy Summers. May all your dreams come true.”

She stared back at him, her lips made the shape of Thank You, but no sound came from her mouth. She drank deeply, gasping as the dry bubbles hit the back of her throat. Oh God, the way he was looking at her. Why wouldn’t he look away? She couldn’t breathe any more. She was going to pant, she was as wet between her thighs as if - She could feel herself begin to tremble, her hand was shaking.

The champagne slopped over the edge of the tumbler and splashed across her throat. Spike growled and leant forward so fast she didn’t have time to breathe. His tongue licked up the trickle as it slid down between her breasts and Buffy moaned deep inside her head at the sensations he was giving her.

He pushed her back onto the rug as one of the candles guttered sharply in a gust of wind and went out. He pushed her dress slowly up her legs, inch by inch, his tongue following his fingers. The white thong she was wearing stood no chance. The lace broke and was tossed aside. She moaned in anticipation, whining softly when his fingers just played with the curls. She spread her legs wider, inviting him, demanding, begging, insisting - “Spike, please, please, don’t stop, please - Oooooh”

She shrieked as icy cold champagne was poured over her and as her hips rose sharply off the rug, a mouth and tongue dived into the bubbles, licking and sucking and drinking. 

Then, without warning, his fingers joined in and the internal pressures were building and building and oh god please don’t let him stop, please don’t stop, oh god waves and waves of red hot pleasure that were too much, too much, too much and he sent her screaming her release into the darkness as the last candle was blown out by a gust of wind and above them, lightning flashed and the heavens opened.

As the rain slashed down, Spike rolled on top of Buffy, sheltering her a little, but within seconds they were both soaked through, her beautiful white dress lying a few yards away, a sodden mass. She didn’t even notice - all she wanted was him. She tore at his jeans - her hands as strong as his, tearing at the zip until it broke and she could yank them down to where he could kick them off.

Now she had his body all to herself. She ran her hands over him, listening to the moans that were coming from her throat being joined by the sounds he was making. Water cascaded off them but all she wanted, needed, was to have him inside her. She was made to take him. There was a part of her that only he could touch and she had to have it - now!

Lightning cracked in the darkness and for a second she could see his face - eyes bright and feverish, tongue licking his lips, then he was moving again and she linked her ankles together behind his back and heard him grunt as he sank even deeper inside her. "What - do - you - want - me - to - do - Slayer!’ he pounded out with each thrust.

“Make me come! Please. I need, I need - ” the breath left her as his pace quickened and he changed his angle slightly to hit against that place inside her that only he could find.

She was keening now, a high kitten noise that grew and grew as one of his fingers reached down, and destroyed all the barriers she’d ever erected against giving in to love. She could feel the surge as he grew larger and harder and then everything went black and red as her orgasm hit her, not once but over and over again as her screams sent him wild and he roared into the night as his climax shook his body so hard she found it difficult to hold him.

She was shuddering when she came back to the real world. The rain on her bare skin was so cold. The only warm things she could feel were Spike's lips pressed to her breast. Which was ridiculous. How could he feel warmer than her? He was dead.

A terrific crash of thunder made her jump and Spike shook his head like a dog, drops of water flying in all directions. His eyes focused with difficulty and he glanced down at her. “You’re freezing, pet,” he said with concern and with a swift movement he was on his feet and pulling her naked form up with him. “Got to get you indoors and warm.”

“W..w..here. H...h..how?”

Spike grabbed his duster from where it was lying in the mud and wrapped it round her. Then he picked her up, strode across the grass and pushed through the heavy undergrowth.

‘W...w...where we going?” Buffy gasped.

“Indoors!”

“Spike - I can walk. You don’t have to carry me!” she protested, struggling to get down.

“Slayer, you might not have noticed, but neither of us have much on in the way of clothes! The thorns in these bloody bushes will cut you to shreds. Be grateful my skin is thicker than yours! And stop wriggling or else....”

“Or else what?”

He looked down at her briefly and grinned. He had water dripping from his hair but his smile was as wicked as ever. “You, Slayer, are turning into a right flirt tonight. If that’s what one glass of champagne does for you, remind me to give you more!”

She lay back in his arms, the duster keeping off most of the rain as he half ran through the undergrowth. It was pitch black, except for the streaks of lightning and she knew she wouldn’t have been able to see more than half a yard in front of her.

Then, suddenly, they were out of the wind, under a shelter of some kind. In the next lightning bolt, Buffy saw the gleam of a swimming pool and a small timber framed building. Spike let her slide from his arms and she huddled inside his coat, shivering.

“We need to get inside,” Spike said.

“How? It’s all locked up and - ”’

The tinkle of breaking glass answered her as Spike used a rock to smash one of the little window panes in the door, reached in, swearing as the sharp edge cut his arm and unbolted the door.

“You’ve done that before,” Buffy muttered, but all her thoughts of taking the moral high ground and refusing to go inside vanished as the thunder peeled overhead and another shaft of lightning cracked down nearby. She fled through the door and tried the light switch, but there was no power. Spike’s slim pale shape brushed past her and she began to laugh. “You’re really not dressed for breaking and entering. And we’re dripping all over their nice polished wood floor.”

Spike muttered something very rude under his breath and threw open a closet. “Here - Miss Flirty - put this on and dry your hair. I’m not going to be the one to face the Little Bit if you go down with pneumonia.” He flung a thick towelling robe at her and she slid out of his duster and into the soft enveloping folds with a groan of relief. There were towels, too, to rub her hair and by the time she was half way dry, Spike had lit the fire already laid in the grate.

In the light of the flames, Buffy glanced round the little room. “What is this place?”

“Reckon it’s a sort of cabin pool room. Film star who owns this place likes to party when he’s here. But that isn’t very often. The big house is all shut up. I checked that out when I was having a look at the lake earlier.”

Buffy curled up on the rug in front of the fire. She was drier now and warmer. Her muscles still jellyfied from what Spike had been doing to her when the storm broke. Her memories warmed her even further and she felt her cheeks flame.

Why was she acting like this? Nice normal girls didn’t have mad passionate sex in the pouring rain. They didn’t roll stark naked around in the grass and scream. She tried to remember sleeping with Riley. It was difficult, like trying to recall a dream when you’re just waking from a deep sleep. Even when magic had been around, their love making had been - well, luke warm compared to what she’d just done with Spike. 

But that, surely, was normal. Riley was a normal guy. He knew how a nice girl should act. He hadn’t seemed disappointed by her performance. Buffy found herself trying not to laugh. She was imagining Riley’s face if she’d done to him what she’d just done to Spike.

Was she very bad? Had she come back from the dead with her moral and physical compass wrong? She tried to picture herself explaining to Willow what she did with Spike, how he made her feel and couldn’t. Okay, Willow and Tara - no, she wouldn’t even let herself imagine what they did. Xander and Anya, euhhh, no. But whatever it was, she was sure they had boundaries, limits they didn’t exceed. She no longer knew what her limits were. And, she faced the answer with an honesty that surprised her, with Spike she didn’t think she had any limits.

She yawned. It was no good. There was no solution to be found tonight. She could quite happily have gone to sleep, but that was not possible, of course. They would have to leave as soon as the storm passed, find their clothes and get back across the lake to their car.

Spike had found a short, midnight blue robe. His hair had dried in a riot of tiny curls and Buffy watched as he fed the fire with little sticks, as gravely intent as a small boy. That was one of the other things she lov - liked so much about Spike. He wasn’t always talking. He didn’t brood like Mr Dark and Broody, but he could let her be, let her think, without always having to chat.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you you shouldn’t play with fire?” she asked.

Spike shot her a quick grin. “Many times, pet. But then, I’ve always been bad, always liked to take chances.”

“I don’t believe you were bad at all when you were young,” she said and he looked up, startled.

“What put that ridiculous idea into your bonce?”

“Oh, things you’ve mentioned over the years.”

He shook his head, frowning. “Don’t go getting wrong notions about me, Slayer. I’ve done too many things you wouldn’t want to hear about and if you did, well, maybe you wouldn’t be too happy about being here with me tonight.”

“I didn’t say you weren’t bad now - although, hey chip! - but when you were my age. ”

Spike stared at the fire. William at twenty-one. He could picture him so clearly, even still remember the unquenchable desire to feel, to love, to experience - something different! Was it possible that he could explain to Buffy who he’d been, the man he’d been before that night Drusilla had decided to make herself a kill mate? Would she understand? Was it worth taking the chance?

The fire blazed up and the flames were reflected in Spike’s eyes. Buffy watched. He seemed about to speak, his gaze wasn’t on her now, but a long way and time away. She waited.

There was a steady hissing as some rain came down the chimney and died on the burning logs. Spike suddenly sniffed and his gaze came jolting back to the present. A deep growl broke from his lips. For a second he went into game face, then forced it away. “Blood, Slayer! I can smell blood.”

Buffy wiggled her foot at him. “It’s mine. I think I cut my toe on some of that glass when we were breaking in.”

“Stupid bint! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It’s just a little cut, Spike. It’ll heal. Look!”

Spike took her foot and raised it to his mouth. She leant back on her elbows and watched, fascinated as he tenderly, delicately, licked at the cut She shivered at his cool touch, then went hot as she saw he was gazing straight up her leg to where the robe had fallen open across her thighs.

A log cracked and sparks shot up the chimney. Buffy crawled over the floor into his arms, tasting her own blood on his lips as they possessed hers with the arrogance of a warrior with his mate.

She gasped as his hands pulled at the belt holding her robe together. “Again?”

“Oh, yes, pet,” he muttered thickly, and tangled his hands deep into the damp blond hair that spilled across her shoulders. ‘We haven’t even begun yet.”

“I thought we were having a normal date,” she whispered, feverishly pushing off his robe to get at his smooth skin with her teeth and nails. Geez, he was growing again, so big, so hard. Every time she knew she wouldn’t be able to take him in and every time, oh ....

And as his body swooped down on hers she heard him say, “For us, this is normal!”

to be continued


	3. Slayer and Souless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the evening after her 21st birthday, Spike has taken Buffy for a moonlight picnic on an island in the middle of a lake. Champagne, moonlight, a storm, a lot of sex and the desire to be a normal girl have given Buffy a night to remember, but now it is nearly morning....

Strip Snap by Lilachigh

 

Chp.3 Slayer and Souless

 

A log fell in the fireplace with a crackle and a shower of orange sparks. Buffy came to with a jolt, sitting up, eyes wide, trying to remember where she was.

She ached all over - every limb, every muscle and, she felt herself going red, inside her she was like liquid jelly. She remembered hearing some boys at school talking once when they didn’t know anyone could hear them. “Shagged myself silly,” one of them had said.

She hadn’t realised what they meant until now. She gazed round. Spike’s naked form was sprawled out next to her on the floor. He was fast asleep and she wasn’t surprised. She’d lost count of the number of times they’d had sex during the night. But she had a vivid picture in her mind of the last time. Spike had been on his back, holding her shoulders above his in mid air while his feet kept her legs apart and off the ground while he made love to her. Only his vampire strength could have kept her suspended like that. Her climax, when it came, had been mind shattering and had gone on and on into oblivion.

And he called this behaviour normal?

But now - she rubbed at the bruises on her arms and stood up to look out of the window of the little log cabin. The storm had passed, the sky was clear and there were even a few stars around. But in the east the darkness was already fading to a dark purple. Before too long the sun would be up and they had to be home by then. She gazed down at the sleeping vampire, at the muscles of his back, he tight cheeks of his butt. She was tempted to lie down again and indulge another fantasy, but time was passing even as she stood there. Instead she nudged Spike with her bare toe. “Hey, wake up. We’ve got to get going.”

“Watch where you’re putting that digit, sweetheart. I’ve been awake for minutes. Vampire hearing, remember?” He yawned, rolled over and got to his feet. “Ummm, what a night. I’ve got aches in my aches. When you ride a chap, you really ride him, Slayer. You OK, pet?”

Buffy nodded; she didn’t know what to say. Was she OK? She had no idea what that meant any more. Physically she felt relaxed, sated, as feminine as she’d ever felt before in her life. But mentally - she couldn’t untangle the feelings and emotions in her head. She seemed to have no way of putting them into words.

“Bloody hell, I suppose I’d better go and see if I can retrieve any of our clothes from the beach. I don’t fancy driving back into Sunnydale just wearing a shortie towelling jacket, not even for you, sweetheart.”

“OK, but don’t be too long. Dawnie’s sleeping over at Janice’s and will go straight to school with her, but Willow and Tara will wonder where I am.”

Standing stock still, Spike looked down at her, his blue eyes hidden by lowered lids, “And you still don’t want them to know you’re with me,” he said and it was more a statement than a question.

Buffy hesitated. Was this the time to tell him that Tara knew about them? That she’d had to confess to someone; the burden had been unbearable and Tara had seemed so sympathetic. Confess - that was a strange word to use, she thought suddenly. It made it sound as if she was doing something bad - not something amazing and fulfilling. And, of course, she was. She was sleeping with a souless vampire. Well, not a lot of sleeping happened, but okay, tonight had been different. They had actually slept together. Usually, just ‘the sex’, as Xander would have called it.

Lots and lots of ‘the sex’. Mind shattering, body trembling, craving him every second of the day and night, wishing he was doing it to me right now, making me come and come and come – but she was the Slayer. Take away ‘the sex’ and the returning from the dead and everything else that had been happening, and, hey, still souless vampire and still Slayer.

Buffy shrugged, shivered and reached out to put some more wood on the dying fire. “There’s no ‘with’, Spike. You know that. There’s you and me, and sometimes we’re in the same space at the same time and we have - fun. But no ‘with’. How can there be? What do you want me to say to Willow and Xander? Oh guess what, after all these years of Spike being our mortal enemy and trying to kill us on numerous occasions, hey, we’re a couple now! That’s a really normal relationship to have, isn’t it? And even if I did manage to tell them - what about you? I can just see you going into Willie’s bar and announcing that your new girl friend is the Slayer. So let’s all be friends. Because I’ll still kill them, whenever and wherever I can. And you know that. So don’t let’s go pretending there’s any ‘with’.” She picked up the poker and bashed the logs into flames once more. She didn’t see the expression that flickered across his face. Something more than hurt, something less than acceptance.

Spike said no more. He unlocked the door and strode out into the dark and wet. The wind and rain had eased and all he wanted now was to find their rotten clothes and get the hell out of here. He slashed at a bush as he passed, tearing off leaves in a frenzied shower. She really was a class-a bitch, this girl. So determined to be normal, when she never would be. So keen to feel and experience everything he could show her, but at the first sign of her emotions being involved, she backed away at the speed of light and, as fast as she could, built up that brick wall she hid behind in her mind. Every time he thought he’d knocked a way through, bam, there she was with another brick and mortar, filling in the gap and adding another layer on top as well.

Oh, he knew what was going through that feverish mind of hers, the drive to be normal that overcame everything else. Well, he’d been a few years older than Buffy when Dru had changed his life from normal forever. But only a few. It had never occurred to her that he knew exactly what she felt. That he might look back and wonder about normality.

“Not that I’d ever want to be back being that little shit again,” he swore to himself as he reached the beach and began to hunt for their clothes. “But at least you’d think she could see she isn’t the only person in the whole world who’s gone through this sort of life change. Don’t suppose Oz wanted to be a werewolf. Hey, maybe Peaches dreams sometimes of what it would be like to be good old Liam again, getting drunk every night in Ireland without a care in the world, instead of brooding about every bloody thing that happens to him. Does Anya ever look back all those centuries and wonder about being a normal Scandinavian girl, living out a meagre peasant existence?”

He spotted his jeans lying where she’d thrown them under a rocky outcrop which had luckily saved them from the worst of the rain. With a struggle he managed to drag them on. The white feather trimmed dress he'd bought for her to wear was a muddy mess, but he picked it up. Bit of soap and water might get the worst of the dirt off, but - that was weird - he wasn’t quite sure why it was ripped up so much.

He remembered pulling it down off her shoulders to get to the creamy mounds of her breasts, get his tongue wrapped round those little pink peaks that drove his mouth crazy. He vaguely recalled her wriggling out of it, the cries as she’d wrapped those powerful tanned legs round his waist. But rips - He lifted it to his nose and sniffed. Odd, although the rain had pounded it for a couple of hours, there was still an odour there. Only one demon left a scent like that. Tazksha. There was a bloody Tazksha somewhere on this island!

Buffy crouched over the smouldering fire, trying not to cry as she coaxed some little blue flames from the logs with the poker. Cold fresh air swirled through the half open door, cleansing the room of wood smoke and the lingering smell of the passion they’d indulged in all night.

“What on earth are you crying about, Summers?” she muttered to herself. “Spike isn’t your boyfriend and never will be. He’s useful and sexy and useful being sexy and you can’t upset him because he doesn‘t have feelings like humans do. He‘s a vampire. Why can’t you remember that?”

She heard a footfall behind her, but refused to turn and look at him. She didn’t want to see the expression on his face. Then a dreadful smell flooded the room - a mixture of sour milk, bad eggs and rotten meat clogged her nose and throat. Coughing she spun round. Something was shuffling towards her - something sewage brown and rotting, its flesh lumpy and peeling. Eyes gleamed - three of them - from the ugliest face she’d ever seen on a demon. And all the time, the dreadful, dreadful smell. She felt herself shaking - and fought against the faint. Forced a scream out of her mouth. “Spike! Spike!”

She backed away round the log cabin, her bare feet searching for a good grip on the wooden floor, kicking the rag rugs away as they threatened to trip her. The demon was wheezing and gasping, reaching out for her with long, wet hands, the flesh shedding off them in gobbets of filth.

Buffy realised she was still holding the poker and jabbed out with it, keeping the demon at bay. She knew instinctively she mustn’t let that flesh touch hers. She could see that where the moisture hit the wooden floor, little burn marks were appearing. This demon was dripping acid. A leap took her on top of the table and a whirling lunge plunged the poker into its shoulder. it roared and backed away for a moment, then came back towards her again as Spike charged through the door. 

“It’s a Tazksha demon,” he yelled. “Don’t let it touch you, Buffy.”

“I don’t care if it’s a doughnut demon, it stinks,” Buffy shouted back. “At least you’ve got your pants on. I’d like to see you fighting it, wearing next to nothing.” She leapt off the table towards Spike, across the demon’s head. Spike’s hands reached out to catch her, even finding time to grin at the slim tanned legs flashing below the short towelling robe.

She pulled out of his grasp and swung the poker at the Tazksha again. This time she hit its head and it went down with a squelching roar. But as it fell, it lunged out with both hands. Buffy went to swerve aside, caught her bare foot in one of the rugs she’d earlier kicked aside and stumbled.

“Buffy!” In one swift movement, Spike pushed her away and took the full force of the dying demon on his bare chest. His yell of agony cut through Buffy, turning her stomach to water. She grabbed his arm and pulled him out from under the Tazksha but she could see that the damage had been done. Spike was unconscious, his bare chest and arms brutally burnt by the acid.

“Spike! Spike!” She dragged a cushion off a chair and thrust it gently under his head. “Stupid vampire,” she muttered. “Couldn’t dodge something that big and squelchy.” She could hear the tremble in her voice and see it in the hand she ran carefully down his cheek, thanking all the gods in all the dimensions that his face was untouched. If it had gone in his eyes - she felt sick. She knew vampires healed fast, as did Slayers, but she was pretty sure they couldn’t grow new eyes.

“But why should I care,” she whispered unhappily. “I don’t understand.” She stared down at the burn marks across the curves and planes of his chest. Only hours before she hadn’t been able to get enough of touching him, her flesh craving the feel of his against it. And now -

A hissing sound made her look up to see the Tazksha dissolving into a brown, muddy puddle of filth, the acid draining away between the wooden floor boards.

The door creaked back and forth in the breeze. It was getting lighter outside. Dawn was here already and the sun would soon be far too bright for Spike.

Buffy stood up and hunted round the log cabin. It was easier to explore now there was some daylight. In the dark the night before, she hadn’t noticed a small trunk tucked away on one side of the room. Inside were several bikinis and - joy of joys - a pair of shorts. She shucked off the towelling jacket and pulled on a red bikini top and the white shorts. They were hideously tight but at least she felt half dressed and not quite so vulnerable.

Spike groaned and she spun round and sank to her knees beside him. “Spike - can you hear me?”

There was a long pause, then another groan, “Slayer....what the hell happened. Bloody hell, that hurts like - bloody hell!”

“Don’t move. The demon fell against you. You’ve got burns all across your chest and arms - ”

“No need to tell me that, sweetheart. Can tell from the pain. Observant like that, you know.”

Buffy gave a silent sigh of relief. If he was being sarcastic already, he couldn’t be that badly hurt - could he? “I have to thank you. You...you saved my life...”

Spike slowly opened his eyes a slit and tried to focus on her. “No, just saving the assets I enjoy, pet. Didn’t want those beautiful breasts of yours all scorched. Don’t like my meat too well grilled.”

Buffy pulled the cushion out from under his head with one yank and it thudded down hard on the wooden floor.

“Ouch!”

“Oh sorry, did that hurt?” she said sweetly.

“What happened to the thanks for saving my life speech?”

She grinned and wriggled closer to him on the floor, pulling the platinum head onto her lap. “You’re much nicer when you’re unconscious, Spike. Just be quiet for a while and let the burns start to heal. It’s too light to leave now.”

Spike closed his eyes, and she felt the powerful muscles begin to relax one by one as she stroked the blond curls into a riot. She hoped he would sleep because she reckoned the pain was going to be very bad once he was fully awake. She shuddered. What if she’d lost him? The demon could have pushed him into the sunlight that was already splashing across the trees and bushes outside. The margin between happiness and despair was that narrow and suddenly she realised that if he wasn’t in her life, then nothing made sense.

“You can get back across the lake, Buffy,” he muttered suddenly. “The boat’s still there. It isn’t far.”

“Hush. I told you to be quiet. I’m not going anywhere, and anyway, I don’t think Buffy and boats are a very happy combination. I can’t work out how you row backwards because then you can’t see where you’re going.”

There was a long pause and she wondered if he’d finally drifted off, then he muttered wearily, ‘“You once said the only chance I’d ever get of sleeping with you was when you were unconscious. Remember?”

Her hand on his head paused and she stared down at the man lying in her lap - at the high cheek bones, the dreadful burns on his white skin, the sprawl of the slender but powerful legs in the tight dark jeans. Coming so close to losing him had made her realise lots of things. He’d been there for her all these years - enemy, friend, ally, lover - whenever she’d needed him, he’d been around but all she’d ever let herself see was - vampire. And only now was she beginning to realise that it wasn’t what he was that was important but who.

“I've been an idiot,” she whispered, almost to herself. “Fighting you all this time.” She took a deep breath and bent her head till it was almost level with his. “You know, don’t you, Spike. You’ve known all this time - that I love you.”

And she waited for the world to explode - until she realised the vampire was fast asleep.

 

to be continued


	4. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buffy and Spike have been enjoying a midnight picnic on a secluded island - a picnic which included a lot of sex - but before they could return home, they were attacked by an acid demon and Spike has been badly burned.

Strip Snap by Lilachigh

Chp 4 Revelations

“No...no...no...you can’t have her. She’s mine! Don’t touch her, Angel! Don’t ....don’t... dare, damn you.”

Buffy jerked awake, her gaze flying round the room to find the danger. Then she realised it was Spike who was yelling. He was still lying half in her lap, half on the floor, but tossing and turning, muttering.

“Spike? Spike! Wake up.” She felt his forehead and then told herself she was all sorts of an idiot. Vampires didn’t get fevers. Well, Angel had that one time when he’d been poisoned, but Spike had been burnt by the acid from the Tazksha demon, not poisoned. She smoothed the platinum curls back from his temples and bit her lip. When they were close, when he pressed himself against her, he always felt cool to her touch. Sometimes just the feel of his skin on her burning body was enough to send her mad with desire, but now he felt like ice. 

“Always loved....always wanted....he can’t have her. Kill him...kill him first....kill” 

Buffy eased herself out from under him. She rolled up the short towelling robe she’d been wearing all night and gently placed it under his head. “Come on, Spike. Wake up. Tell me what to do,” she murmured, beginning to feel panicky. Why wasn’t he healing? The burns on his chest looked just as bad as they had earlier. They hadn’t faded at all. “I don’t know whether to keep you warm, or let you stay cold,” she said, kicking at the floor in frustration. “And there’s no way I can get you down to the boat in all this sunlight, even if you could walk.”

Oh god, what if he - what if he never recovered? A chill ran through her as icy as the ones that were now shaking Spike every few seconds. Of all the countless times in the past when she’d wished him dead and dusted, never had she actually imagined it happening. Other vampires could vanish in an instant, but somehow she’d always known Spike would be there at the end of each fight. Annoying, sarcastic, a right royal pain in her butt. But unlike Angel and Riley and even her father, always there.

She knelt at his side, and ran her hand over his face. “Spike, please, come back. Come back for me.”

Suddenly, his eyelids flickered and there was a dull glint of blue as he looked at her. ‘Buffy?”

“I’m here, Spike. You’re sick. Spike, tell me, what should I do to help? Is there something you need to take or do?”

“C..cc...ccold.”

“Yes, I know you are. You got burnt by a Tazksha demon. Just shows you how unfit you are. You would have dodged him easily last year.”

She tried to sound bright and cheerful, hoping to see his eyebrow lift sardonically, hear some sarcastic quip. But there was nothing. He seemed to be drifting in and out of consciousness. Buffy reached for his hand and felt his fingers lace with hers. “G...go away...Slayer,” he muttered.

“Spike, I may be a lot of things, but I’m certainly not the sort of person who leaves my - my friends lying around in pain when they’re ill. Just tell me what to do to help.”

“D...dying. Soon. G..ggo away, pet. Not nice to see. Pain and more pain. Lots of screaming at the end probably. Although, have to say, deserve it. No regrets. Apart...sorry to leave you, pet.”

Buffy stared down at the face she despised, loathed, liked and loved and, for the first time in ages, felt truly scared. “Of course you’re not dying. Honestly, Spike, make a drama out of nothing, why doncha. You’ve caught some sort of bug from that squelchy demony thingy. That’s all. If you’d just stop with the Hollywood act and tell me what to do, life would be a lot simpler.”

His grip on her hand tightened and the blue slits grew fiercer. “D..dying, Buffy. Pain’s bad....getting worse. Go! Get away from me. D...don’t know if I can stay sane for long. D..don’t know what I’ll do if....I go mad.” He pulled his hand out of hers and edged himself away, getting as close to the wall as he could.

Buffy stood, staring down at him. Her head was whirling. How could this be happening? They’d been so happy only hours before. The romantic boat ride, the picnic on the lake-shore, the way they’d made love so hard it had hurt.

"Spike - listen. I’m going for help. I’ll find Clem or someone who knows what to do. Willow might. Or Anya. There’ll be something in one of the books at the Magic Shop. Just stay here till I get back.” She hesitated at the door, torn between going and staying. She had the dreadful feeling that if she left, he wouldn’t be here on the island when she got back. Then, a memory flashed through her brain and her fingers went to the scar on her neck. Her blood had cured Angel, why shouldn’t it cure Spike?

She dropped to her knees and pulled Spike round to face her. “Spike - listen - is it blood? Do you need to feed? You can - ” she pushed her hair back from her neck. “Here! Spike! Are you listening? Please, just - ” her voice trembled and broke.

The long black lashes trembled and he was there, conscious, looking up at her, at the slender neck she was offering to him. An expression she didn’t recognise flashed across his face. “R...rather die, Slayer,” he got out, his teeth chattering. “N...never feed on you. Could kill you.”

“Don’t be such a pompous jerk,” Buffy snapped. “This isn’t the time to be all English and stiff upper lippey. Just take the blood, Spike.” She paused, then, quietly, “Angel did.”

Spike backed even further away, a fierce expression on his face. “Bog-trotting Paddy w...wanker! G..go away. Never feed on you, pet. Never do that to my girl.” And then as if this last effort had been too much, his eyes shut and he slid into silence.

Buffy stared down at him, unaware that her cheeks were wet with tears. Why couldn’t he do it? Angel had. And she hadn’t died. OK, it had been a close call, but Spike couldn’t know that. He hadn’t been there during the Mayor’s ascension. Or was it something else. Did the thought of her blood, Slayer’s blood, offend him in some way? Was it dirty to him? Unclean? She’d come close to forgetting recently that Spike was first and foremost a vampire. Perhaps it was okay to kill Slayers, or sleep with them, whichever he fancied at the time, but drinking their blood?

She clenched her fists as she turned away and pulled open the door just enough to get out without letting in too much daylight. Outside was a green and blue world. The woods were fresh and smelt of rain and new growth and living things. The sky was a delicate egg shell blue and somewhere a bird was singing to the new day. Buffy took a deep breath. She smelt of demon and wood smoke and Spike. She hurried through the woods, down towards the lake. It was a glorious day but she knew, without any doubt, that she would willingly go back into the darkened hut without a backward glance if it would save him.

The rowing boat was still where Spike had left it all those hours earlier. She pushed it down the beach into the water and leapt in. As she picked up the oars and began to inexpertly guide the boat across the lake, she knew, grimly, that somewhere on the far shore lay Sunnydale. And if she had to take it apart, piece by piece, she would find a cure for him. No matter what it took.

The sun beat down on Buffy’s head as she rowed back across the lake to where they had left the car the night before. She could feel the blisters begin to burn on her hands as the smooth wood of the oars rubbed at her flesh. The skimpy shorts she was wearing bit into her backside as she slid across the seat, trying to put all her Slayer strength into every stroke.

The air above the lake danced in the heat but inside her she could still feel the chill certainty of knowing Spike was dying from the poison the Tazksha demon had flung across his body. And if he died - nausea flooded her throat - if he died, she could go on living, but it would only be a half life.

“I must find someone must help us,” she muttered, gasping as the blade of the oar missed the water and almost sent her sprawling. God how difficult rowing was. Spike had made it look so easy the night before when it had been all moonlight and fun and hot, passionate sex that had made her very bones melt.

‘Just let me get home,’ she prayed. ‘I’ll find someone - ’ Suddenly, a thought bit through her brain and she stopped rowing and leant on the oars, staring back at the island where the vampire lay, fighting for his sanity against the pain that had taken over his entire being. The land she was gazing at shimmered in the heat haze, as if it was a distant fairyland, about to vanish into the mists. The brutal fact was - no one was going to help her save Spike. There - that was what her brain had been trying to tell her. She was looking for help, afraid to trust her own powers again. As she had done after she killed Angel and fled to L.A. ; after her mother had died. Scared to cope with Dawn on her own, desperate for someone to be there for her.

And when Willow had brought her back from the dead, all she’d wanted was to return to the heaven she’d left, to the peace and serenity, absolved from making big decisions, of having to be in control, the one everyone relied on. And the only person who’d been there for her then, always on her side, always around when needed, needed her now.

Buffy knew what would happen if she returned to Sunnydale. Xander would flap around, saying he would help, but privately glad the vampire was dying. Willow would insist she couldn’t use magic any more, Anya would offer books and sell her potions, Tara would have some suggestions, but at the end of the day, it would be too little and too late. No, she was the Slayer and this was a demon problem. And this time she was going to face up to what lay ahead and cope with it by herself.

She spun the boat round and raced for the island again, ignoring the pain in her hands, the sunburn on her bare arms and neck. The path up through the woods was blissfully cool. Buffy pushed her way through the bushes, fighting the brambles that reached out to scratch at her legs. She needed to get to Spike - fast. Whatever happened, they had to face this together.

‘Spike - listen - we have to - ’ Buffy burst through the door into the little cabin and swerved to a stop. It was empty! Spike had vanished. She gazed round, her heart racing. No ashes, the sunlight hadn’t pierced through the window and caught him while he was unconscious. No, she thought grimly, she knew exactly what her lover had done. He’d been determined she wouldn’t see him in pain, wouldn’t watch him go mad and die, and had somehow managed to drag himself outside. But it was broad daylight! He couldn’t be outside - unless - ice froze the blood in her veins. Would he have gone that far? Tried to commit suicide to stop the pain? To end his torment?

“Spike! Answer me! Where the hell are you?” Frantically, she gazed round the little room. There was nowhere for him to be. The cupboards were too small. The tiny bathroom off to one side held a toilet and a glass shower cubicle - not even a curtain for him to hide behind.

Buffy dragged her fingers through her blonde hair. She was about to race outside and hunt under the bushes when she noticed one of the cotton rugs on the floor was rucked up in an odd fashion. Kicking it aside, she felt her hopes soar. There was a trap door in the wooden floor. The hut had some sort of cellar. She grabbed the metal ring that was set flush to the ground and heaved. The ease with which the trapdoor swung upwards on its hinges confirmed that it had been opened only recently.

“Spike!”

No reply.

A flight of steps lead down into the dark and a light switch. Buffy flicked it on and gasped. Lying on the earth floor at the foot of the ladder was the vampire. Buffy hurtled down the steps and, dropping to her knees, pulled Spike over onto his back. Was he alive? How the hell did you check with a vampire? She knew Spike breathed when he didn’t need to. But at the moment his chest was still.

She gazed round the basement. It was bigger than the cabin above, had obviously been built as an extra storage space. There were stacks of tinned and bottled food and drink, towels, swimming-pool toys, tennis rackets, logs and matches - all sorts of odds and ends that had been packed away for holiday use.

Buffy cradled Spike’s head on her lap and brushed the dirt from his cheeks. He was still very cold, and the burns across his chest and arms looked just the same. "When the hell is vampire healing going to kick in?" she muttered. “Spike! Spike! Wake up! Please.” She could feel the tears building inside her and brushed away a couple that fell onto his face. This was no time to dissolve into a sticky mess. She ran her fingers over the taut skin across his muscled waist. As concerned and worried as she was, she felt a frizzon of excitement at touching him like this. It was weird being able to feast her eyes on him. Usually when they were together, there was touching and fondling and, oh god, sex of all sorts that turned her to jelly. But she rarely got the chance just to look.

if she did, his hands would reach for her, his voice purr into her ears and it would all start again. She sighed and with a gentle touch, began to examine the burns on his chest, trying to assess if they were any worse when suddenly the long black lashes flickered - once - twice, he opened his eyes and looked up at her. Oh, thank God, he was still alive!

“Spike - it’s Buffy. I came back. We’ll do this together. Fight it. Get you well again. I promise. Spike, talk to me, please.”

“Madam - I - I seem to have fallen asleep. I do beg your pardon. I must have partaken of strong drink somewhere. Please accept my deepest apologies, for this transgression. Allow me to rise, I beg of you.”

“Spike – what the heck - ” Buffy stared down at him sharply. The blue eyes that usually glinted and sparked at her like twin sapphires were still blue, but had a deep, dreamy quality in them that she’d never seen before. His face looked softer, the expression worried and - an odd word to use where Spike was concerned - shy! Yes, Spike, lay there, struggling to get up out of her lap and looked shy.

“Spike - what’s the matter? It’s me, Buffy.” No! She screamed inside her head. Don’t let it be his mind. Please, don’t let the demon poison have sent him insane. I’d rather he was dead than mad.

“Madam, I wish I had had the pleasure of making your acquaintance, but you are a stranger to me. Now, if you would kindly remove your hands from my person, I will need to be on my way home directly. Mother will be waiting for me.”

And as she stared at him in horror, Buffy suddenly realised what had happened. William the Bloody had vanished: William the quiet, bookish English gentleman had taken his place!

“Spike? OK, not Spike. William?” Buffy eased the vampire from her lap and he sat up, looking bewildered. He stared round the basement in amazement.

"You know my name, Madam. I wish I could reciprocate, but you seem - ” His eyes widened in shock as he took in her appearance and then he looked swiftly away. “You seem to have been involved in some sort of dreadful accident and - lost most of your clothes. Was it footpads, ruffians who attacked us?”

Buffy’s lips twitched. She was sorely tempted to say, ‘Hey guy, you’ve seen me without a stitch on, so don’t worry about a T-shirt and shorts!’ but managed to keep quiet.

"Indeed - " he winced and examined the burns from the Tazksha demon on his chest and arms, “I, too, seem to have come to some grief. These burns are most painful. Was I careless with an oil lamp, perhaps? I must apologise for my lack of shirt and - "

"Spike, do stop chuntering on about clothes!” Buffy said. “Try and concentrate. Try and remember what happened. The demon - the acid - being on the island in the storm.”

William stood up and backed away from her until the edge of a picnic table caught him behind the knees and he sat down on it abruptly. ‘Everything you say is strange, Madam. If I’ve been imbibing strong liqueur, then I must apologise once more. Now, if you will kindly show me the exit, I must get home. It feels late. I had no intention of staying at the party so long, but dear Cecily - ”

“Over a hundred years late,” Buffy interrupted. She stared at the vampire. How could someone look exactly the same, yet be so different? His face looked softer, his shoulders were slightly rounded, even his blond curls looked longer.

“William - ” she started again, then stopped. What on earth could she say to him? Hey, you’ve woken up in 2002, everything you knew and loved is dust and ashes, you’re on the other side of the world and oh, yes, guess what, you’re a vampire! Fancy a cup of blood?

“I don’t understand.” William ran his fingers through his hair, causing the peroxide curls to loosen up even more.

Buffy took a deep breath. “It’s a very long story. Let me begin by telling you my name’s Buffy Summers. I’m an American.”

“A Yankee!”

“Well, no, Californian.”

William held out his hand and automatically Buffy took it. They shook hands, gravely, and William bowed his head in greeting. “I’m - I’m - ” A look of blind panic crossed his face. “I do not seem able to recall my name. Perhaps I had a blow to the head as well as the burns.”

“Your name is William,” Buffy said gently. “Sometimes I call you Spike.”

“So we’re acquainted, Madam? I fear I do not recollect our being introduced. You must think me very discourteous, but - ”

“Yes, we know each other,” Buffy broke in, realising that, like Giles, William was going to take three sentences to say one.

"May I enquire why you call me ‘Spike’?” 

Buffy raised her eyebrows to heaven. “That’s a very long and complicated story. ” She realised she was still holding his hand and dropped it hastily. “Look, I know this is going to seem strange, but I want you to come with me.”

“Where are we going?”

Buffy stared into eyes that were as mild and blue as a summer sky. This was so weird. She knew that when a person was ‘turned’ into a vampire, a demon came and took over their body and they were no longer the same person. Where Spike was concerned, she’d always had the feeling that his demon wasn’t fully in control. He was such an odd vampire in so many ways - not the least of them being his ability to fall in love, desperately, devotedly, passionately.

"I want to get you some help - you - the other you - urrrgggh - you told me you were dying when the demon attacked you. We need to get advice, help, although I must admit you do seem - well, better.”

William stood up and stretched - Buffy blinked; she could almost see the scar tissue healing. It was as if he was on some some of fast track to recovery. And, “trying to stop bad lusty thoughts here,” she murmured to herself as her eyes took in the ripple of muscles in his chest and shoulders. He might have William’s face, but he definitely had Spike’s body. She gave herself a severe mental slap as she wondered if all his other attributes were the same size and shape and - 

“This is a decidedly odd place,” he was saying now. “We appear to be in a cellar of some kind. Shall we explore upstairs? We may find a member of the constabulary who can assist us. And we must certainly try and find you some clothes to cover your - er - ” He gazed at her sideways, gulped and said, “Limbs.” 

Buffy sighed. If Spike was expecting to find a British bobby in a funny helmet upstairs, he was going to be sadly disappointed! Before she could move, he had run up the ladder and vanished through the trap door into the cabin above.

Spike! William, wait! Let me check it out first. Damn the man.” Buffy fled up the ladder after him, pausing in surprise at the top as a hand was extended to help her up the last step.

Spike was still holding her hand as he stared round the little cabin, his eyes wide. ‘“I feel like someone from one of Mr Lewis Carroll’s books for children,” he said. “Are you acquainted with his work.? There is a child who falls down a rabbit hole, you know, and - ”

“Spike, we’re not down a rabbit hole and I’m definitely not Alice,” Buffy said, trying not to laugh. The situation wasn’t funny, but she was so relieved that Spike wasn’t dying, that even having to cope with William was a plus. “Look, just trust me for now,” she continued. “We’re on an island in the middle of a lake and need to get back to the car.“

William turned curiously. “The cart? How far did the footpads bring us, then? I can hear bird song. Are we out in the countryside?”

“It’s not a cart, it’s a car. Oh god - there is no way I can explain the internal combustion engine to you. You’ll have to wait till we get back to Sunnydale and I’ll let Xander do that. Jeez, I don’t suppose you can drive, can you? That means I’ll have to.”

William hardly seemed to listen to her. He was still gazing around, a bemused expression on his face. “I’m anxious to see the lake. Perhaps it is somewhere I know.” He strode towards the door and the handle was in his grasp when realisation hit Buffy like a shock of cold water. He might be William, but every nerve in her body told her he was still a vampire and he was just about to throw open the door and step out into the sunlight.

“Sp - William! Stop!” She launched herself at him, grabbing his bare shoulders and pulling him backwards. The door burst open and she heard him hiss in pain as a burst of sunlight surged into the cabin, catching his bare arm.

She kicked the door closed and turned back to him. For a second, he stood, head bent over his arm, then he looked up and she realised he was in game face. William had vanished and the demon she knew only too well was there. “Spike! Listen, think - this is you. Can you remember who you are? Try?”

He shook his head and the golden eyes changed back to blue and the bumps and lumps vanished. A startled William stared back at her. “I’m...I’m....a....”

“Vampire. Yes, top marks for observation. You’re a vampire, evil undead person, a thorn in my side. If you go out in the sun, you burn up into dust. Avoid crosses, avoid all pointed wooden objects. In fact, you ought to avoid me, because I’m the Slayer, but we’ll tackle that little problem at another time.”

Spike collapsed onto the rug in front of the long dead fire. “How...I don’t understand. I was at a party, I had a poem to read to Cecily...I love...”

Buffy stared down at the dejected figure, then dropped to her knees next to him. “Spike, I’m sorry. I just don’t know what to do to help. I don’t understand why you’re William and still a vampire. I don’t understand where ‘my’ Spike has gone. It has to be to do with the acid from the Tazksha demon. Probably it’ll wear off - like when I could hear people’s thoughts, or drank the beer and went all Cavewomany. Till then, we’ll just have to stay here until it gets dark, then row back across the lake and get home to Sunnydale. We’ll find Willow and she’ll know what to do to magic you back again.”

William looked up at her, his eyes blazing with hurt confusion. “I cannot deny that I am a vampire but I don’t - what will Mother say - what will Cecily - ” The words caught in his throat and he fell silent for a few seconds. Then, “This is turning out to be a very weird day, Madam,” he said. “I don’t understand half of what you say. Why are we going to find a willow tree? Your accent is so very odd. And I must admit - ” He stared at her shoulders and lifting a hand, ran a finger slowly over the tanned rounded flesh. “I have never seen a female unclothed to such an extent before.” he finished hoarsely. “Your legs, they are so long and shapely and - ” he swallowed and shifted uncomfortably.

Buffy glanced down and grinned. Whoever he was, the erection straining against the denim of his jeans was proof that some things never changed.

She reached out and touched the bulge lightly. William flinched and tried to move away, then paused as she cupped her hand and stroked him harder, letting her fingers dig in to rub at his balls. A little moan escaped his lips.

“Madam, I must insist that you stop this wanton behaviour - I have no knowledge of trollops and indeed, I intend to keep myself pure for Cecily and - ” His breath hissed out as Buffy found his zip and tugged it down. She couldn’t resist. She knew it was naughty, but, hey, they had all day to spend and if this was going to be William’s first time, she was determined to make it one he would remember. At least until Spike came back!

She pulled off her T shirt over her head and watched in glee as his eyes widened so far she thought she would drown in them. A slender finger rose and tentatively touched one of her taut nipples. “Pretty,” he groaned.

She moaned and could see the desire and expectation flood across his face. She leant across him and as the nipple brushed his lips, he pulled it into his mouth. Kicking off her shorts, she tackled the task of getting him out of his pants. Clumsily he helped and within seconds she was astride him. She’d meant to go slowly and carefully, but he was too big, too ready and everything in her was screaming for release.

Buffy had been sure William would be quick to come, but suddenly he flipped her over on her back and began pounding her. Her legs came up to lock behind his waist and the two of them surged into a long, thundering climax, their shouts mingling together and the noise carrying out of the cabin and down to the bottom of the lake where something in the mud and slime began to stir.

 

to be continued


	5. Play Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the night following Buffy's 21st birthday, Spike takes her to a little island in the middle of a lake for a midnight picnic. A storm, stormy sex and the arrival of an acid demon makes for an eventful night. But Spike is badly burnt by the demon and when he finally regains his senses, it is William who confronts the Slayer, not Spike. And Buffy can't resist initiating a certain Victorian gentleman in the delights of sex.

Chapter 5: Play Time

Buffy drifted up to consciousness from somewhere deep and dreamy and rosy pink. Her whole body felt as light as a feather; with the slightest effort she could have elevated off the cabin floor - just like the object of one of Willow’s magic tricks - and floated to the ceiling. She yawned and stretched, feeling the muscles in her legs ripple. Her bare foot touched skin - cold skin she knew only too well. She was smiling as she ran her toes across Spike’s heavily muscled thigh - Then she remembered and her eyes flew open.

She was lying by herself on the floor. William was sitting, back against the wall, with his jeans draped modestly across his middle, staring down at her. His hair was a riot of tiny curls and as she grinned up at him, he glanced away and became very interested in digging a splinter of wood out of one of the floorboards.

“Hi!” Buffy said quietly. “You OK?”

He seemed to be having some difficulty in speaking. At last, after much throat clearing he got out a croaky, “What do you mean, madam, by the letters O - K?”

Buffy sighed. She’d forgotten that she had to speak as if she was Jane Eyre. “I mean, do you feel all right?” she said.

He licked his lips as if they were bruised. “I feel - I had no idea - I had, of course, heard gentlemen speaking in my Club - they said - but I never - ”

“I take it you are, then,” Buffy said briskly, sitting up and hugging her knees to her breasts. “Did you enjoy it?”

William took a quick peek at the damp blond curls he could see between her legs, then averted his eyes again. “Well, madam, I hardly feel it is the sort of subject I could discuss with a lady. But then, I suppose you aren’t a lady, are you?”

“I beg your pardon!” Buffy stared at him.

William bit his lip. “I hope I cause no offence, I realise something very strange has happened to me, and you are a American and so your manners are not quite - but even allowing for your nationality, no lady would...you are obviously no stranger to the arts of the bedroom. After all, I can not imagine that dear Cecily would know what... or have allowed me to - well - indeed no.”

Buffy stared at him, speechless. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. The vampire was sitting there, stark naked, accusing her of being a big ho. She had never been so tempted to stake him as she was at this moment. Then the absurdity of the situation hit her. This wasn’t Spike. This was William. What he said couldn’t hurt her. He was only judging her by his own experiences in life. He was a Victorian and from all she’d read about them, sex was a taboo subject. What was the expression she’d heard someone laughing about once at college? Oh yes, “Lie there and think of England,” that was what girls were supposed to do when they got married. She wondered what a shock it must have been to be alone in a room with a man for the first time in your life and have that happen to you when you didn’t even know what a man’s body looked like.

Judging by the stunned look on William’s face, what they’d just done had been a real eye-opener to him.

“So,” he was continuing, and for a moment a hand went to his face in a gesture that Giles made all the time and Buffy realised William was searching for a pair of spectacles he obviously no longer wore. “As you are a woman of some experience, was that...was I - ” his voice went hoarse - “capable?”

Buffy swung round to kneel in front of him. The sight of Spike being shy was an incredible turn on. She could feel the blood surging through her, her breasts felt tight; they ached, the nipples tingled and she longed to feel his cool mouth on them again. She knew that if she was her usual sensible self, she’d get dressed and find some way of getting William/Spike back to Sunnydale. She was sure Willow would find a cure, a way to get Spike back in his body and return William to wherever he’d been sleeping for all these years.

But, geez, she was so tired of being sensible. So weary of always doing the right thing, of looking after everyone, of being Buffy who would always manage, always cope. She’d had to be so strong since her mom had died; strong for Dawn, strong for her friends, strong for everyone. And since Willow had brought her back from the dead, she hadn’t had one day of real fun. Sometimes she looked in the mirror and saw a forty year old woman staring back at her. Suddenly Buffy realised that what she wanted to do, just for a couple of hours, was play. Okay, it was naughty. Perhaps it was unfair. She was, after all, taking advantage of a man who had no experience or knowledge of women. But it wouldn’t be the same as when Faith had switched bodies with her and slept with Riley; Spike and William were basically the same person.

And Spike would never know. She felt a tingle run across her body at the thought of what he would do to her if he did remember. She could almost feel the flat of his cold hand smacking her backside until it smarted - but she would cope with that when and if it happened. At the moment, there was William, naked and sexy in front of her. And she’d just deflowered him - if that was what you did to a man - so she owed him something, didn’t she? There was no reason for this kind, sweet guy to think he was useless in bed. She wasn’t going to do to him what Parker and Angel had done to her, make her doubt herself so badly that her confidence had been shattered.

She knew that until Spike had made love to her that first time in the ruined house, she’d never really believed she was capable of giving a man complete satisfaction. Riley had seemed happy, but she’d always had the vague feeling with him that there was something more she should be doing. Spike had shown her exactly what that was.

“Oh yes, you were very capable, William - for a first time, that is,” she said sweetly. “And yes, I do know some of the bedroom arts as you call them. I had a very good teacher. He’s English, too, you know.”

William shifted uneasily on the hard floor and Buffy’s lips twitched. The poor man was obviously dying to look at her body, but determinedly staring anywhere else. “There seemed to be - ahem - well, a great deal of noise. I never thought, well, I have always known, of course, that gentlemen find it a pleasurable activity, and I must admit that I could not stop myself from crying out at the feelings. But why should a woman - but you seemed, well, towards the end, you were - well - ”

“Screaming?” Buffy added helpfully and felt her thighs tighten. “Oh yes. You’ve no idea of the sensations you caused me, William.”

To her delight, she watched as he pulled the jeans slightly away from his body. She could guess what was happening under that tough denim.

“Would you...?” he cleared his throat and dug out another splinter from the floorboards, “I mean, if it gave you some little pleasure, and I would, indeed, like to become proficient in this past-time, so perhaps we could - ”

“Do it again?”

At last his blue gaze swung round to her and feasted on her breasts. “I seem to be...it’s quite alarming...didn’t think it could be that soon...”

“William, you’re a vampire,” Buffy explained with a smile. “It isn’t the same for you as other men.” Thank God, she said silently and reaching forward, tweaked the covering off of him and felt her eyes widen at what awaited her. Yes, she was going to play, oh heavens, she was going to play so much. She’d deal with guilty feelings later on. 

He gasped as she bent forward. “This can be good, too,” she said wickedly and ran her tongue down the steel velvet length. She heard him groan and hiss in delight and reached up with her hands to link them tightly with his, hearing him babbling an endless stream of delight.

When he finally opened his eyes, he stared at her in astonishment. “Madam, that was, oh, I had no idea I could transcend to such a plane of existence.”

Buffy frowned. “I take it you enjoyed that.”

William nodded enthusiastically. 

“Well, in that case, do you think you could possibly drop the ‘Madam’ from now on? Can’t you call me Buffy.”

“But we haven’t been formally introduced!”

Buffy kicked him in the ribs with her bare foot and grinned as, with vampire speed, he grabbed her toes and deflected the blow. William and Spike had exactly the same reflexes. “I think what we've been doing for the past hour is a pretty good substitute, William!” she said tartly. 

The vampire was struggling with the etiquette of the situation. Yes,he could become a vampire and discover sex in all its forms, but calling a girl by her Christian name when they hadn’t ‘officially’ met, was obviously a far greater barrier to overcome. “I shall continue to call you Miss Summers,” he said finally. “That would be acceptable, surely. Buffy is such a very odd name, but perhaps not to one from the Colonies.”

“No odder than Spike.”

William gave a faint smile. “We had a dog once called Spike. He was a vicious creature to strangers, but very affectionate to me and the family. He ran away one day and got lost. It caused Mother a sadness of heart.”

“Well, we won’t think about that now,” Buffy said hastily. 

“No, indeed. I feel that thinking about Mother in this situation would not be seemly, especially as you are still unclothed.”

Buffy ran her hands mischievously across her breast. “My shorts and T-shirt are just over there,” she said, nodding to where they lay discarded on the floor in her hurry to get them off. “Do you want me to put them on?”

William shook his platinum head, his blue eyes burning. “No indeed not,” he whispered. “I have never seen a female body in the natural state before. It is very - arousing. You are a temptress, Madam.”

“I told you, no more Madams!”

William edged closer. “My apologies, Miss Summers. May I enquire - what you did to me just now - the sensation was most gratifying, but you received no pleasure in return.”

Buffy found herself smirking. She had a very good idea where this was leading. “Oh, I enjoyed doing it immensely, William. And you could always reciprocate.”

His eyes grew wider as the implication of her remark sunk in. “You mean - surely not - no woman would - how - ”

Buffy lay back on the floor and beckoned to him. 

The climax when it hit her went on and on. Every time she thought she was coming down, his tongue curled again and drove her back over the precipice until she was a sobbing, moaning mass of quivering nerves.

It was dusk when Buffy found enough energy to think and speak again. She ached in places she hadn’t know she had places. She’d lost count of how many times they'd made love. All she knew was that for a beginner, he learnt really fast and if his technique was a little more tentative than Spike’s, he certainly had as much imagination. 

Now she realised the vampire was standing, gazing out of the window. “Miss Summers, I have had the most entertaining and educational day, but now I have to face up to the problem of being a vampire. I’m sure it is only a temporary affliction. Once I get home, I’ll call round to the vicarage and ask the Reverend Digby for his advice.”

Buffy stared at him in despair. “William, have you any idea where you are and what year it is?”

The vampire gazed back at her, puzzled. “Of course I know what year it is. The year of our Lord, 1880 and we are in London. I admit I am not sure where exactly, but feel it must be on the outskirts as you spoke of a lake.”

Buffy shut her eyes and sighed. Play time was officially over. The next few hours were going to be just as difficult as she’d feared.

Minutes later, William looked down at the woman sitting on the floor of the cabin, pulling on a pair of brief bloomers - he had no vocabulary in his mind for shorts - and a vest which covered up her breasts - much to his disappointmet.

The acid burns from the Tazksha demon had almost faded from his body. Thin, hard muscled, pale, the white blond hair mussed into a thousand little curls, he looked no different in some ways to how Spike did every time he roused himself from hours of passion. But the eyes were different. Still blue, but softer, puzzled, bewildered by what Buffy had been saying.

“2001? We’re in the year 2001?” He threw back his head and laughed. “Miss Summers, that is a fine jest. You would have me believe that over one hundred and twenty years have passed since Cecily’s party? Why, I would have a long white beard down to the ground were that so!”

“William - Spike - you were turned into a vampire on the night of your Cecily’s party!” Buffy tried to explain. “You can’t die - well, only by wooden stake, or Holy water, or beheading, or - ”

He threw himself down beside her. “Miss Summers, I am aware of all aspects of vampires. Indeed there have been several very exciting stories written about them quite recently. I expect that it where you are obtaining all these fine embellishments. I accept I am a vampire, indeed, I can tell that I am - different. But to be that old - ” For the first time the jollity slid out of his voice to be replaced by an aching note of worry. “That would mean, my dear Mama....”

“Look, William, don’t think about that just yet,” Buffy put in hastily. It seemed so hard that he had to face a grief now that he’d never faced in his past. She didn’t want to inflict that on him. She’d never asked Spike about his family. She’d rather gathered from little clues he and Angel had dropped that ‘William’ had been close to his mother, but Spike had refused to admit that the previous owner of his body had anything to do with him.

“So, 2001”’ He gazed apprehensively up at the window where the light was fading from the sky.

Soon it would be fully dusk and she could get him back to the lake, into the boat and across to the main-land. Once in Sunnydale, Buffy was certain Willow could help him. 

“I imagine the world has changed a great deal? Who is on the throne at present?”

“What?”

William looked anxious. “Well, our dear Queen Victoria is no longer with us, I’m sure. Nor her sons or daughters. So who rules the Empire?”

Buffy groaned and wished violently that Giles would appear in a flash of smoke to take over. Her knowledge of American history was sketchy to say the least. Her knowledge of the British variety was practically nil! “You have a Queen Elizabeth the Second,” she said, picking out the one fact she did know. “But not a lot of Empire left. There’s been wars and revolutions.”

William raised his hand again to push the phantom spectacles back up his nose. “Really, now that is very interest - ”

“Spike! William! Listen, there isn’t time to discuss politics or history. I have to drive you back to Sunnydale for Willow to sort you out.”

“Ah, there’s that strange name again. Well, Miss Summers - ” He got to his feet in one lithe movement and held out his hand. “Let us away. Will we be able to hail a Hackney cab to our destination. I seem - ” he ran his hands over his jeans’ pockets and frowned. “I seem to have no money with me. I fear I must have fallen amongst thieves as well as vampires.”

Buffy let him pull her to her feet. She stood holding this hand, gazing into his eyes, at a loss for words. This was proving so difficult. One minute Spike seemed to accept what had happened and the next he blanked it from his mind and reverted to being a William who had got lost on his way home from a party and was still in London in the year 1880. Then he smiled at her, and the world fell away once more. What was it about his smile that made her shiver, caused her legs to tremble and every nerve in her body to stand up and shriek? No matter if William or Spike was there, the smile was the same - warm, mischievous with a hint of wickedness.

Buffy sighed. “Look, just stay close to me, William. You’ll see all sorts of weird and wonderful things, I expect. But I’ll explain everything when we get home.”

The soft blue gaze slid over her body and she blushed. “I have seen - and done - many wonderful things today, Miss Summers,” he said slowly. “If there are more in store for me, that would indeed be - ”

“Yes, right, let’s get going!” she said interrupting him. She knew if they didn’t get out of the cabin straight away, she‘d pull him down on the floor and insist he made love to her all over again.

She led the way out of the cabin and plunged down the path through the woods, heading for the beach. She just hoped the little row boat would be where she’d left it. It was a soft, warm evening and with the sun dropping fast down behind the tree line, William was perfectly happy to follow in her footsteps. Rounding the final bend, she groaned in delight to find the boat still tied to a log.

“Can you row, William?” she asked, knowing what a mess she’d made of her efforts the last time.

“Certainly, Miss Summers,” he said cheerfully and untying the rope, handed her into the boat with all the courtesy of a mediaeval knight helping his lady into a carriage. He pushed off from the shore and settled himself at the oars. “Where am I heading?”

“Straight out across the lake to the other side,” Buffy replied. “Our car should still be where we parked it. If it hasn’t been stolen!”

“A car?” William raised an eyebrow at her and she pulled her gaze away from the play of his muscles in his arms and chest as he rowed.

“Oh yes. It’s a vehicle to travel in. It has four wheels and an engine. But don’t ask me how an engine works, because I’ve no idea about valves and tappets and starter motors.”

She stopped as he looked at her blankly. Then a faint smidgen of understanding crossed his face. “A few years ago, I remember reading that a German gentleman called Otto invented what he called an internal combustion engine that ran on some sort of fumes. There were rumours that a moving vehicle was about to be constructed. I wonder if it is the same sort of cunning device.”

Buffy sighed and for the first time in her life, wished that Xander was sitting here with her and Spike so he could explain automobiles. What on earth was William going to think when he saw a television screen for the first time! 

“You row very well,” she said, trying to change the subject because she could see that dreadful male glint in William’s eyes that meant he was going to be very boring for a very long time about a subject she knew nothing about. “We’re half way across already.” 

She bit her lip, remembering the night Spike had rowed her to the island. The beautiful white dress he’d given her, the romantic picnic, the passionate, nerve shaking way they’d made love. And the first quiver of fear ran through her. What would happen if Spike never came back? If William remained in the Sunnydale crypt; a nice, Victorian vampire, adrift in the modern world. A vampire who had to be reminded not to go out in the sun and, as far as she could tell, didn’t have the first idea about how to get his next meal. Thinking of which....

“Are you hungry, William?” she asked tentatively.

William shut his eyes briefly, as if in deep thought. For a second or two, he vamped into game face, then back again. Buffy sat as still as she could in the creaking boat. It had suddenly come to her that this wasn’t Spike. He might be chipped, but he wasn’t Spike. He was a vampire of whom she had no knowledge.

“I have to admit, Miss Summers, that I do have a strange craving for - well, for blood,” William said at last, sounding apologetic. “I imagine this is part of the vampire situation?”

“Oh boy are you right about that!” Buffy said dryly, “Do you know how to feed?”

William looked at her with his guiless eyes and nodded. “Oh yes, I believe so. But please do not concern yourself. I am not sure of the etiquette of the situation, but I think it would be most improper to feed on someone with whom I had just had physical congress.

Buffy tried very hard not to laugh, but couldn’t stop her mouth twitching. She wondered if she could contact Giles and ask him if there was a nice little book about the correct form of behaviour for vampires where sex was concerned. Perhaps she could help William write one, she thought dreamily, lulled by the rhythmic splash of the oars and the creaking of the oars. It could have a nice pink velvet cover and gilt lettering and -

“What the hell!” She was suddenly flat on her back, wedged against the side of the boat with William lying flat on top of her. With a roar he’d dropped the oars and flung himself at her and now lay spread-eagled across her body. Oh God, she thought, seeking for leverage to push him off. He’d attacked her! She was going to have to stake Spike. Oh no, oh please God no! She couldn’t lose him this way. Not now, not when she’d finally realised how much she - 

“Don‘t move, Miss Summers! Not an inch. It’s passing overhead.” William’s cool mouth was pressed against her ear, his breath tickling her skin.

“What is it? Spike? I mean, William?”

“Up in the sky. A great silver monster, with red eyes, roaring. A dreadful demon. Don’t be afraid. I’ll defend you. I’ll fight to the death. I won’t let it get you.”

Buffy wriggled her head free and peered over the pale shoulder up into the darkening sky. The lights from a large plane heading for the airport were dwindling into the distance. “William, get off me. It isn’t a monster or a demon. It’s just - well, just another form of transport. It flies through the sky from place to place.”

William gazed down into her face, still not unlocking his legs from around hers. She could see that he was struggling with this new information and also aware that her body and his were reacting in their usual fashion to each other. “I have seen a man ascend in a basket suspended under a hot air balloon,” he said at last.

“Yup, well, you get the general idea, then,” Buffy said, aware of the fact that she was spreading her legs until she could touch each side of the boat with her feet. Oh god, she wanted to spread them and - the buttons on her shorts gave up the unequal struggle and burst open. A growl broke from William’s throat and for a second a wave of delight swept over her. She was sure Spike was back. But no, it was William’s hand that slid down his own zipper.

“Not the right place or time - ” she gasped but her body wasn’t even listening to her brain. She had taken him inside with one hard, long plunge and within seconds the boat was rocking violently as he plundered her body and and roared his release.

William slowly pulled himself off Buffy and sat back, searching for the oars. One had freed itself and floated a little way off. He leant over to reach for it, then froze. Only a couple of yards away, something huge, foul, pulsating and purple was heaving itself through the water towards them. And William was quite certain that this time it wasn’t some invention of this year 2001, but a genuine monster he was seeing, and one that was determined to destroy them.

The moon was just rising as a heaving, roiling mass crashed onto the lake shore. Great gobs and chunks of purple flesh, oozing yellow blood, a clump of intestines - still wriggling - and the splintered remains of a small boat. The next wave tossed up two exhausted bodies. Buffy groaned and rolled over in the sand, moaning as it tore at the various cuts and scratches all over her body. She yelped in disgust as she realised she was still holding one of the creature’s eyeballs where she’d gouged it out with her fingers. “Euuwwwu, messy! Gross!” She flung it away from her and bent to rinse her hands where the waves were cleaner. “William - are you okay?” She turned, worried, to where the vampire was slowly rolling over onto his knees. He’d fought with all the power and skill that had made Spike such a feared figure down the years. Buffy knew she would have had a hard job trying to quell the lake monster on her own.

“Miss Summers, we have survived! Goodness, that was - extremely interesting. I had no idea that such a creature existed. I wonder if it is one of the new species found in the Southern Atlantic recently?” He looked up at her and she was startled to find he was smiling, the blue eyes - so much softer somehow than Spike’s - were gleaming with delight. “We fought very well together, I submit. I had no idea I possessed that very useful skill of butchery. I was particularly impressed by the way you locked your legs around the beast as I tore off its tentacles.”

“Oh yes, William, I could win an Olympic gold medal for killing squelchy demony water monsters. In fact, if there was a competition for putting your hands into grossness, I would beat all comers. Uggh, I can still smell it on my hands and my nail-polish is completely ruined!”

“I fear the row boat is no more, Miss Summers. I trust the owner will not need immediate recompense?”

Buffy sighed. She had no idea where Spike had got the boat from in the first place. Or what deal he’d made. She had a sneaking feeling he’d probably “borrowed” it without the owner’s permission. “William, let’s head for the car and get you to Sunnydale. Now, listen, a car is a vehicle that makes a noise and moves along the road, apparently by itself. You’re not going to freak out on me, are you? - and stop licking your fingers!”

William stood up from where he’d been dabbling his hands in the yellow blood and sucking on them. His teeth flashed white in the moonlight. “I must apologise for my lack of manners. I’m afraid I suddenly realised I was, indeed, extremely hungry and although this blood has a strange, rather fishy taste, it still goes down remarkably well - ”

Buffy shuddered and turned away. “Stop forgetting he‘s a vampire,” she muttered to herself as she marched up the slope towards where they’d left the car. “Evil, okay, chipped evil, but still countless years of evilness.” And she ignored the voice in her head that mocked her, saying the only reason she was upset was that quite often, after they‘d made love, Spike licked his fingers in exactly the same fashion.

tbc


	6. What about Me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During their midnight picnic following Buffy's 21st birthday party, they are attacked by an acid demon and Spike is badly burnt. When he recovers, it is William who inhabits his body. And the Victorian man is as desirable to the Slayer as Spike ever was. But now Buffy has to get him back to Sunnydale and hope that Willow can find a way of getting Spike back.

Chapter Six: What about Me?

 

It was dark when the car lurched up the road and bumped up onto the sidewalk outside Buffy’s house. William was holding onto both sides of his seat with a grip that no demon in the world would have been able to break. As the car stalled and jerked to a halt, he let out a long sigh. “Were you supposed to hit that sign as we came into town?” he asked hoarsely. He didn’t think he’d ever felt such fear in all his life, even when the monster came rising up out of the water, or when Miss Summers had undone his trousers and -

“Oh, you mean the one that says Welcome to Sunnydale? I think someone must have moved it. Stupid sign. Being welcomed to the Hellmouth is a very strange thing to say to strangers. ”

“And the man who had to jump several feet across the road as we came round the corner?”

Buffy shrugged. She wasn‘t sure why people always complained about her driving. OK, she and cars were not mixy things, but she thought she’d done really well considering she was sitting next to a vampire who kept squealing just because they were going over thirty miles an hour.

She glanced up at the house and groaned. All the lights were on. She’d half hoped that the gang would have gone to bed and she could take William indoors and get both of them showered and changed before all the questions started. But there was no putting off the evil moment. “Come on, William. This is where I live.”

“A fine residence.”

“Ah, well, no, not really. Just an average sort of house.”

“Do I live here, too?”

“Certainly not!”

“Oh, then perhaps you should transport me to my own lodgings, Miss Summers. I have to accept that I am in a strange country and a strange time. But I’m sure that if I can sleep well tonight, I will find a way tomorrow to make all this come right again.”

Buffy sighed. “No, William, you won’t. Not on your own. You need to meet Willow.”

“Meet? But your friends know me, you said?”

Buffy stared at the tousled hair, the slanting cheek bones, the way his muscles played under his skin as he moved. She swallowed. God, what was it with her and this guy? He was an evil vampire, no matter what his character, and even if he said he loved her, that was no excuse for her to want him so badly.

In he dark of the car, his eyes glittered like blue stars and she could see the curve of his lips. The rush of passion that flooded through her, startled and scared her. There was no way she could feel like this about William! It was bad enough having sex with Spike - well no, bad was not the word she should have used - sex with Spike was anything but bad. Wrong! She grabbed the word out of the last brain cell that still seemed to be working. All these feelings for this vamp were wrong.

Wearily, she led the way up the path and into the house. Willow and Anya jumped up from the sofa. Xander was just coming in from the kitchen, eating a slice of pizza that was dripping melting cheese down his chin. Willow gasped, “Buffy! Thank God. Where have you been? Are you OK?”

“And what on earth are you wearing!” Anya said, gazing in horror at the tight shorts and T-shirt, both now torn and dirty.

“Hey, Buff. Good to see you back,” Xander mumbled. “For god’s sake is that Spike lurking out there?”

Buffy turned round and realised William hadn’t followed her inside. He had a hand out, touching an invisible barrier. Of course! He was William, not Spike. And William had not been given permission to enter. “Oh come in,” Buffy said swiftly and the vampire blinked as the magical obstacle vanished.

“And he’s coming in the house because...?” Xander said sarcastically. “And why is he only wearing a pair of jeans? Buffy, what’s going on?”

“Can we have the inquisition in the morning?” Buffy said wearily. “We both need a shower and some sleep. As there’s no squealing and yelling, I take it Dawn’s at Janice’s.”

“How do you do?” William pushed past her, and advanced across the room, hand held out to Xander who gaped, dropped the pizza and automatically shook hands with the vampire.

“How do you - ! Spike! What the hell are you doing?”

“It’s very good to find a gentleman here,” William said cheerfully. “Are these ladies your paramours, perhaps?”

“What!” Xander’s yell could probably have been heard in Los Angeles, Buffy reckoned. Then she started to laugh and sank down on the sofa, her legs feeling weak. She couldn’t help it. The sight of Spike being all English and polite, trying to introduce himself to Xander was worth all the trouble she’d been through in the past few hours.

Anya went close to William and gazed up into his eyes. “Not Spike,” she said softly. “I can sense it.”

“Anya, of course it’s Spike,” Willow said snippily. “Look at him. Pale, thin, dyed hair, all Billy Idol except , of course, bare chested and - Buffy, why are you wearing those dreadful shorts?”

William was happily touring round the room, shaking hands as he went. Xander stood staring after him, his mouth open in astonishment. William took Willow’s hand and bent his head briefly over it. “Madam, I must say, I have never seen hair your colour before. Is it magic that makes it that red?”

“What! Oh, no, it’s called October Flame - I mean, Spike, why are you calling me Madam?”

William looked confused. He reached out to touch Willow’s screaming red hair and Xander propelled himself forward, grabbed him by the shoulders and threw him sideways.

William cannoned off the wall, and came up in game face. He took a long stride towards Xander, then stopped, shook himself and went back to human. “Sir, obviously I have made some mistake in the etiquette of this strange country and times. I offer you my sincere apologies and trust you will not hold it against me. Perhaps we could remove to a hostelry and you can tell me exactly how life is lived here. I must admit it would be welcome to have some male company. As exciting and interesting as Miss Summers is, I yearn for a little sensible conversation.”

Xander looked pleased. It wasn’t often that he was singled out as the person someone wanted to spend time with. “Oh, right, yes, we could find a bar - and, hey! What the hell are you talking about, Spike? I would rather chew off my right arm than go out for a drink with you.”

“And why is Xander suddenly more interesting than me?” Buffy put in, her voice cross. She felt hurt. OK, all sorts of goodness to be called exciting and interesting, even by a vampire. But surely there was no way William could prefer Xander’s company to hers! Not after what they’d been through together.

“I keep telling you,” Anya said, sitting at the table and picking up a nail file. “Not Spike.” She stared up at him. “I reckon - it’s William.”

“William!” Xander and Willow spoke together.

“Yes?” William said mildly, looking from one to the other.

Buffy sighed and stretched her arms above her head. Geez, she was so tired. If she didn’t have a shower soon, no one would want to come within a mile of her. “Guys, yes, Anya’s right, this is William. Not Spike, not William the Bloody, but William as he was before he met Dru! He’s still a vampire, still chipped, but not Spike. Don’t ask me how. It was something to do with the acidy stuff he got burnt with. Acid from a Tazksha demon. We need to find a way of changing him back, Willow. But, please, can we do it in the morning! I’m beat.”

The other three stared at her and then back to William, their faces pictures of amazement and disbelief. “I told you so,” Anya said at last. “No one was listening to the ex demon, of course, but I knew it wasn’t Spike.”

“But Buffy, where on earth did you meet a Tazksha demon,” Willow said worriedly. “They’re very, very rare. Don‘t tell me there’s one wandering around Sunnydale?”

“What? Oh, no, we were - er - ”

“We were in a little house on an island in the middle of a lake, Madam,” William put in helpfully, ignoring the glare Buffy sent him.

“It doesn’t matter where we were,” Buffy said swiftly. “I’ll explain later. Just now, William needs a shower, so do I. Then sleep.”

“Am I to share your bed, Miss Summers?” 

“Now listen here, Spike, William, whoever you are,” Xander growled. “If you lay one finger on Buffy, I’ll personally stake your lousy skin and walk in your dust.”

William looked bemused. “But we’ve already - ”

“Yes, well, it’s getting very late,” Buffy broke in hurriedly, guessing that he was just about to tell Xander details of exactly what they’d shared in the last few days. “Let me show you where to wash up, William. Then you can sleep down here on the sofa. We’ll talk again in the morning.” And she urged him up the stairs, wondering as she did so, exactly what the new day would bring and how she could prevent William telling her friends every intimate details of their relationship so far.

“You have a very strange household, Miss Summers,” William said politely as she hurried him up the stairs. “Do all those people live here with you?”

Buffy was heading for the bathroom. She was longing to feel hot soapy water on her skin. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone so long without a wash. “No, Xander and Anya have their own home. Willow lives here and my sister, Dawn - who should be home any moment. But I don’t want you meeting her tonight.”

She pushed open the bathroom door and almost thrust the vampire into the room. She didn’t want to explain that she was hoping she could get Spike back before Dawn had to find out.

“Get in the shower. I’ll find you something to wear.” She left him staring around in amazement and fled into her bedroom. Buried in one of her closets was an old pair of trousers, covered with paint, that Riley had worn once when he’d helped her redecorate her bedroom. They would be far too big for Spike, but it was them or nothing!

“Jeez, I need water, hot, hot water,” Buffy moaned and raced back to the bathroom door. William was standing where she’d left him, a bemused expression on his face. Buffy turned both bath taps on full, groaning in ecstasy as the steam rose up in fragrant clouds as she poured bubble bath into the water, filling the room with vanilla and rose essence. She glanced round at William. “Look, there’s the shower cubicle. Get in there and have a wash. I promise not to look at you if you don’t look at me.”

William stared at her through the steam. “What mustn’t I look at, Miss Summers?”

“Me naked, of course.”

“But I’ve already seen you unclothed.”

“That was - different. Look, just get in the shower. No, take your trousers off first, idiot! Oh, do you know how to work a shower? No, of course you don’t! You have the bath. I’ll take the shower.”

“But the water smells of - ”

“I know, I’m sorry. It was meant for me. But it won’t hurt for once. Just get in and soak. You’re still covered in sticky yellow demon blood.”

“Buffy, are you OK?” It was Willow outside the door.

“Yes, I’m fine, Will. Just showing Spike - William, how to work the shower. I”ll have mine when he’s finished.”

“OK. Xander and Anya have gone. I’ll be downstairs if you want me.”

Buffy pulled off her clothes. She didn’t care what he thought. She wanted to wash now! She stood under the pounding water, feeling the dirt and demon blood and other unmentionable stickiness washing away. She peeked out once to the amazing sight of the vampire lying in rose scented bubbles, being male and playing with the taps with his toes.

“Oh god, Spike will never forgive me for this,” she muttered, diving back into the cubicle and rubbing shampoo vigorously into her hair. “Please, please, don’t let him ever remember I made him take a bubble bath!”

She was rinsing her hair for about the third time, eyes shut, almost asleep as the warm water gushed over her body, when a colder draught hit her. Her eyes shot open to find William standing in the open cubicle door looking at her, his eyes half open, glazed with desire. He’d tied a towel round his waist, but there were obvious signs underneath it that the sight of her was not unpleasant.

“William! What did you - hey, wait a second, I’ll get dry and - ”

Her words stopped as he stepped into the cubicle and, without speaking a word, began to kiss her. She felt the towel slide away and - oh god, was all that for her ? Yes! He smelt of rose and vanilla and Spike. His mouth was cold but for a while, at least, his skin was warm from the hot bath. And that felt so odd. Buffy moaned as his hands found her and his kisses grew deeper, more insistent.

She knew she should have stopped him, could easily stop him - she was the Slayer, she was strong enough to push him away any time she chose, end it now. Willow was only downstairs, Dawn would be home soon. They mustn’t make a noise, but how she stop herself screaming when he did - Why was she acting like this? This wasn’t Spike, it was William, but oh god, his hands were Spike’s hands and what he was doing with his tongue -

She reached for the tap to turn off the shower, but there wasn’t time. One of his hands slipped between her legs and she was glad the water was still thundering against the glass as she began to moan.

“Open your eyes, Miss Summers,” William muttered and she forced herself to look up through the spray and mist and steam into his blue gaze, panting, gasping, as he slowly, but surely sent her insane. She was still staring at him through the steam and for a second, the sapphire eyes boring into hers were Spike’s as she gave a final strangled scream and her climax hit, wave after wave of feeling coursing through her body.

She tightened her legs and arched her back, pushing her pelvis against his hand as he pumped wickedly with his finger, over and over again. She gave a little jump and wrapped her legs around his waist as he held her against the streaming tiles and buried himself inside her. 

His movements were as hard and sure as Spike’s had been. This was no debutante to sex. Whatever lesson she had taught William, he had learnt it fast and well. There was no pausing, no hesitation, he held her effortlessly off the ground and made love to her until her body turned to jelly and every nerve ending shrieked for the bliss of release.

When she came back to reality, she found they were lying on top of her bed, tangled up in the quilt. She had a vague memory of William half carrying her out of the bathroom and her fumbling for the door handle and then locking it behind her. She rolled over and glanced down at the vampire. He seemed to be asleep, but the smirk on his mouth was one with which she was only too familiar. Whenever they made love, Spike got that expression on his face. Like a great cat that had just slurped a whole bowlful of cream. 

Buffy poked him in the ribs as she hunted for clean clothes. “Get up, William,” she hissed as she pulled on dark blue jeans and a pale pink top. “We’ve got to go downstairs. You need to sleep on the sofa.”

“I’m very comfortable right here, Miss Summers,” he muttered without opening his eyes, but reaching out instinctively to stroke her thigh.

Buffy batted his hand away. “Stop that right now!” she snapped. “Get dressed. You can’t be in my room when my sister gets home.”

William sighed heavily, opened one eye and smiled sleepily. “I am heartily looking forward to meeting her.”

“You already know her - as Spike, that is. I don’t know how she’s going to take you being William. She’s...she’s fond of Spike.”

William swung his legs over the side of the bed and pulled on the trousers Buffy had found for him. She grinned. They were far too large and the leather belt had to be pulled in to its smallest to stop them falling off his slim hips. 

“Very odd garments you wear in these times,” he said with a fastidious gesture that reminded her so much of Giles that her head swam. “Did these trousers belong to your father?”

“What? No way - they belonged to Riley. He was - ”

“One of your lovers?”

“Hey, there’s no need to make it sound as if I’ve had thousands of them. He was my boyfriend - OK - maybe more than that for a little while and - ” She stopped dead. Why on earth was she telling him all this? “It’s none of your business, William. We’ll get you to Spike’s crypt tomorrow and you can wear his - your - oh god, it’s so confusing. Whoever you are tomorrow, there’ll be clothes there that will fit you. Look, there’s this T-shirt, too. Yes, I know it’s torn, but it’ll do. Now come on. Downstairs.”

At the table, Willow was sitting on her own, working on her computer. She’d turned out all the lights except the desk lamp and it turned her hair to burnished copper.  
She smiled as they appeared, obviously fighting back the desire to laugh at William’s appearance. “Hey there. Well, you certainly look a lot cleaner, Buffy. That must have been the longest shower on history. And you, too, William.” She stared fascinated at the head of tiny blond curls that had appeared as his hair dried. Willow couldn’t remember if she’d ever seen the vampire without his usual slicked back hair-style. “This must all seem very strange to you.”

‘“I have had a most cleansing bath,” the vampire said happily. “Although I must apologise if I smell highly scented in a most feminine fashion. Miss Summers put copious amounts of a highly pungent substance in the water and even though I washed it off in the shower when we were - ”

“ - were rinsing out his wet jeans,” Buffy broke in swiftly, knowing that at any moment he was going to relate to Willow exactly what they’d done in the shower. “Now, Will. Have you any ideas on how to get Spike back?”

Willow shook her head and turned back to her laptop. “No, but I’ll probably find something at the Magic Box tomorrow. I know Giles had a couple of books there that covered reversion spells. And Buffy, remember that the Tazksha demon is very dangerous. You simply mustn’t let it touch you. I’m surprised Spike didn’t die from the acid.”

“He almost did,” Buffy said wearily, sitting down on the sofa, exhaustion beginning to bite her. She shuddered, remembering how ill the vampire had been, how she’d been convinced she was going to loose him and how that had sent her brain into overdrive. Why should he matter so much to her? Perhaps it was just ‘the sex’ as Xander would have said. Did that mean she was some sort of sex addict? She’d heard about people like that, who got hooked on it just as much as they did on drugs or drink. But it isn’t that, she thought desperately. When she’d believed she was going to lose him, the thought of sex had never entered her mind. All she could think of was Spike himself and how empty and pointless her life would be without him in it. 

Buffy glanced across at him now. He was walking slowly round the room, picking up photographs of her mom, of Dawnie, of the Scoobies all together, smiling and laughing. Even in the ridiculous T-shirt and trousers, he had an elegance of movement that always surprised her. She could have watched him all night.

“OK, tomorrow we’ll be all researchy and clever,” she said. “William, I’m going to find you a throw - even though I suppose you don’t really need one because you’re cold already, but - well, anyway, I’ll find you one. And then tomorrow we’ll start some serious research into getting Spike back.”

The vampire turned and for a second Buffy’s heart flipped. His gaze was very direct; it could have been Spike looking at her. “And if you get this Spike back, where do I go, Miss Summers?”

There was a long silence. Willow was twisting a lock of hair round and round her finger, gazing at Buffy from under her lashes. She looked very nervous.

Buffy stood up. “Go? Well, you won’t go anywhere, William. You’ll just be - Spike again.”

“But what if I don’t want to be Spike?”

“What!”

He sat on the sofa, and clasped his hands in front of him. “I appreciate that you have all been extremely concerned, but you have never bothered to ask me what I want to do. I like it here. I like who I am. So if it’s all the same to you, Miss Summers, Miss Willow, please don’t bother with any magical spells or potions. I’ve decided to stay here as myself. I don’t want to vanish, to disappear. I like life. I’m afraid this Spike character can’t have my body any more. He can’t come back.”

And as Buffy stood looking down at him, she could see there was a stubbornness appearing on his gentle face that reminded her once again of the very man he was condemning to perpetual banishment.

to be continued


	7. One Solution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buffy has returned to Sunnydale from her birthday picnic with William, who - as the result of a demon's attack is inhabiting Spike's body. And although she is quite happy to sleep with the vampire, his very existence is beginning to make her realise what Spike means to her. Buffy is determined that Willow will find a way of getting Spike back - but William isn't at all keen on leaving!

Chp 7: One Solution

 

Buffy was being held down, suffocated, ropes were tied tightly around her body and even though she was struggling and fighting, she couldn’t get free, couldn’t breathe, dying - And she woke up, realising that the sheet had got tangled round her body in a tight band, binding her arms to her sides. She struggled free and sat up in bed, trying to shake off the remnants of the nightmare. Her alarm clock showed three-thirty - Buffy groaned. She knew that once she was awake, she would find it hard to get back to sleep, no matter how tired she felt.

Getting out of bed, she crossed the dark room to stare out of the window. Sunnydale lay quiet, sleeping as if it was really an ordinary peaceful town, not one built on a Hellmouth . Nothing moved. She could go out and do a quick patrol, she supposed, but didn’t really feel like it. No, there was only one solution to insomnia - ice-cream. She padded down the stairs - then stopped dead. There were voices coming from the family-room. The flicker of light was obviously from the TV, but people were speaking. Buffy crept down silently and stared. Dawn and William were sitting side by side on the sofa, sharing a large tub of ice cream, watching TV.

William had an expression of bemused incredulity on his face. His spoon kept going up to his mouth, then something on the screen made his eyes widen even more, and ice cream dripped down his T-shirt and Riley’s paint-stained trousers.

“Dawn! William! What are you doing down here? It’s three-thirty in the morning!”

“Oh, hi Buffy,” Dawn said with a yawn. “I couldn’t sleep, so I came downstairs to get some ice-cream and discovered that the lump on the sofa who I thought was Spike, was in fact William.”

William hadn’t even acknowledged Buffy’s existence. The cartoon on the TV had him firmly in its grip.

“William!”

‘“Look! It is a box with moving pictures in it, Miss Summers. Like a lantern show but with music and speaking. Look! That cat is chasing that small bird but never catches him. It is vastly amusing. And Miss Dawn tells me that it isn’t magic. That it is an invention, as was the flying demon we saw when we were on the lake. Do you remember, you were lying on your back and I was - ”

“Yes! Yes! I remember very well.”

“And this ice-cream - it has a most delectable taste. I wish it was available at home. It would be immensely popular.” William waved the spoon vigorously and spattered chocolate chip in all directions.

“Dawn - I was going to tell you tomorrow. There was an accident and Spike - ”

“That’s OK, Buffy. William explained.”

Buffy frowned. “How did you know he wasn’t Spike?”

Dawn tossed back her long black hair and licked her spoon clean. “Oh come, on Buffy. Anyone with more than a single brain cell could tell he wasn’t Spike as soon as he began to speak.”

“Can I fetch you a bowl of this delicious delicacy, Miss Summers?” William got to his feet, smiling politely at Buffy, and she found herself wishing that he would stop being so damned nice about everything. Why didn’t he rage and yell about what had happened to him? How could he just accept that he had been taken out of his time and place and transported across the world to another time and turned into a vampire as well?

“No - thank you.” She watched as he headed for the kitchen, then turned to Dawn. “Go to bed. It’s hideously late. You’ve got school in the morning.”

“No, I haven’t, stupid. It’s Saturday. Remember, that funny old day that comes right after Friday, just before Sunday. It’s called the weekend.”

“Well, even so. You must go to bed. It’s late and we all need to get some sleep. Especially William. He’s got a difficult day ahead of him tomorrow. Willow’s going to the Magic Box to find a way of getting Spike back. We’re sure there must be a spell, or a charm, or something.”

Dawn glanced over her shoulder but the vampire was still busy in the kitchen, adding little marshmallows and chocolate sauce to his ice cream. “What’s going to happen to him, Buffy? I like William.” She sounded upset.

Buffy reached out and ran her hand down the silky black hair. “I know. So do I. But Dawnie, you like Spike, too, don’t you?”

Dawn flicked the remote at the TV and the cartoons vanished. “Yes, of course, I do. But this still is Spike, isn’t it? He’s chipped and everything. Still a vampire. But it’s as if all those years and years of being evil have vanished. They haven’t happened to this William, so he isn’t the same person.”

Buffy bit her lip. How could she explain to Dawn that whatever demon possessed William’s body when Dru turned him, was still there, somewhere deep inside. William was as evil as Spike - it just didn’t show at the moment.

“Where will William go if you and Willow manage to get Spike back?”

“I don’t know. Look, Dawnie, I know it’s hard to understand. I don’t truly know what’s happened. But I think we have to reverse the effect of the demon acid. Whether that’s right or wrong, I’m not sure, but something tells me that’s what we have to do.”

Her sister jumped up and crossed her arms across her chest. “Why do we always have to do what you think is right? What if I think something else is right?”

Buffy frowned. “That’s not fair. You’re still too young to understand - ”

Dawn spun round to face her. “I understand that you always think you know best, Buffy. But sometimes you don’t. I mean, hey, what if you found a spell that could turn me back into pretty green energy. Would you use it? Make your life what it was before I arrived?”

“Dawnie, you’re my sister and I love you. Nothing will ever change that. I would never do anything - anything! - to hurt you.”

“You haven’t answered my question, though, have you. You think Spike should be here and not William. Why is it your choice to make?” And she turned and raced up the stairs and Buffy heard her bedroom door slam shut.

“Miss Dawn has retired again for the night?” It was William, standing in the doorway, thumbs hooked in the belt of Riley’s trousers, staring down at Buffy as she sat on the sofa.

“Yes. And so must we.” Buffy urged her weary legs to start moving, but she was comfortable relaxing on the squashy cushions and it seemed too much effort to stand up. She could only hope that the vampire hadn’t overheard their conversation.

William crossed the room and sat next to her, gazing sadly at the blank face of the TV for a second, then turning his attention back to Buffy. ‘You look tired, Miss Summers,” he said.

Buffy gave a little laugh. “Well, considering what we’ve done over the past couple of days, I’m surprised I’m not unconscious.”

William slid his arm round her shoulders and pulled her close to him. For a second Buffy resisted, then decided she couldn’t be bothered to fight him. Her head was so comfortable against his shoulder and his hand was gently massaging her neck, easing away the tension.

“Your sister is a lovely child,” he said quietly.

“Yes, although she would die if she heard you call her a child. She’s a teenager, although I don’t suppose you had that expression in 1880!”

“She told me she was fifteen and still at school. I found that surprising. She does not appear to me to be a blue stocking.”

Buffy frowned, then a vague memory of Giles calling Willow that once, came to her mind. “Oh no, she’s not just interested in learning. She likes all sorts of things.” She wondered what he would say if she tried to explain about mystical energy and Keys and memory alterations. She decided to stick to TV and chocolate ice-cream.

“I think she likes me,” William said softly. “But I can tell she is fond of Spike, too. It is very odd. What sort of man is he, this Spike?”

Buffy shut her eyes. How could she answer that? Had she ever stopped before to ask herself that question. She just accepted him, longed for him, pulled him towards her, pushed him away. She needed him, hated him, loved him - no - she wanted him, that was different.

“Brave, a fighter, loyal, stubborn, irritating. He could be your best friend and your worst enemy - usually both at the same time!” She found the words slipping off her tongue easily enough. She opened her eyes and turned her head. William was closer than she’d imagined. His lips were only centimetres from hers.

“And you have feelings for Spike. That is plain,” William muttered and bending his head just a fraction, kissed her.

Buffy felt the room swim around her. It was such a soft, tender kiss - no passion, no lust, but long and sweet, his mouth chill against the heat of hers, his tongue an icy dart that seduced her own to dance with it.

“He - you - Spike is - convenient,” Buffy murmured as they broke apart.

‘But you want him back,” William said, running his hands slowly up under her vest top and circling her breasts in slow sweeps.

“I - oh God - I don’t know.”

“Why, Miss Summers? What can he give you that I can’t? Does he make love to you better than I do? Does he make you shiver and quake more than me when he touches you - there - and - there.”

A choked whine broke from Buffy’s mouth as one of his hands slid down under her pyjama shorts and stroked the curls between her legs. She found herself opening them as wide as she could, offering herself to him. “Oh God, William. Don’t stop. Do that again. Please!”

“Tell me,” he hissed suddenly in her ear. “Tell me you prefer me to him!”

“I can’t,” she panted. “You’re the same person. Oh God. I want you! Now!”

Together they tumbled off the sofa onto the floor. Buffy heard her shorts rip as vampire teeth tore them off her. Then he was inside her, holding her above him, thrusting, pulsating, driving her with him, onwards, deeper and deeper, until the red mist began to creep across her vision.

But just as her climax hit, she opened her eyes and gazed down into his face. And as the first overwhelming wave sent shocks piercing through her body, she realised she was looking not at William, but at Spike. He was back! The man she loved - even as she thought those words, she banished them from her mind - Spike was back! He rolled over so she was underneath him. “Buffy! My God, Buffy!” he groaned.

Two bodies joined, the heat, the sweat, the cascading, pulsating sensation urging her upwards and onwards, Spike’s face above hers, roaring his pleasure as his climax hit. As she returned to reality, she found the side of her face pressed against the carpet, Spike’s weight crushing her. But it felt so good. She was sorry about William. He’d been fun, but this was Spike, this was -

“That was very odd, Miss Summers. I felt - well, almost disembodied for a while.”

Buffy sat up and stared in dismay at the vampire whose head was pillowed on her thigh. There was no mistaking the soft blue gaze, the slight blurring of the features.William was back. “Spike - you were Spike again,” she whispered.

William frowned. He looked puzzled, but she realised that he hadn’t denied what she’d just said. “At that last - er - during my - er - ”

“Climax!” Buffy snapped.

“Thank you, I’m afraid my vocabulary for erotica is not as extensive as it perhaps should be - during my final climax, I had the distinct impression that I was two people. Very strange indeed.”

Wearily, Buffy scrambled to her feet. She knew he was right. Spike had been there, just for a few seconds. Just as she now knew he had been when they made love - no, she wouldn’t say that - when they had sex in the bathroom, earlier that evening.

Now William was back, looking at her with that tender expression that tore her heart in two and danced on the pieces. She didn’t want to get attached to this vampire; it was the other one she loved. There was that word again! She turned without another word and limped upstairs, hoping that any noise they’d made hadn’t been heard by the rest of the household. She needed to lie down quietly and try and get her thoughts in some sort of order. The love word kept flashing into her brain. Did she love him? It was such a huge emotion for such a little word to describe.

She’d loved Angel. Surely he had been and still was the love of her life. Not Spike. He’d been her direst enemy until he got chipped and even then - Buffy threw herself across her bed and pillowed her head on her arms. She knew what usually happened when she tried to think about her feelings. She mentally ran away and hid. She brushed them all under the carpet and did a sort or Scarlett O’Hara act. Oh I’ll think about them tomorrow - tomorrow is another day. She would do anything to avoid looking closely at how she felt about people. It was as if pretending that emotions didn’t exist, would somehow make hers go away. But it never happened, of course.

The patchwork quilt of her bedcover danced in front of her eyes. She ran her fingers lovingly over the shapes. Her Mom had made this. Buffy could remember her sitting with it spread over her knees in the evenings, sewing, exclaiming when the needle pricked her finger, laughing when some of the squares looked more like oblongs or triangles.

All the patches were from Buffy’s old clothes. Here was a piece of black velvet - that reminded her of Angel, a washed out, sad looking lemon with nasty orange flowers - Parker, a red, white and blue striped square - Riley. All gone. And holding them apart and yet linking them together, small bright blue diamonds, as blue as a certain vampire’s eyes.

She smiled suddenly. Her mother had liked Spike. For the first time Buffy lay there, fists tightly clenched, and faced up to the truth. Yes, she’d loved Angel when she was what - sixteen, seventeen. Lots of people fell in love at that age and it was always glorious, dreadful, heartbreakingly romantic. Plus a vampire, so, hey, added bite. But now, she had to admit that love had gone. All that was left were the faded colors of what had been a rainbow of excitement. Some good memories, some terrible ones. And, at the end of the day, he’d left her.

Oh, he’d been full of very good reasons why he had to go, but none of them had rung true to her. If he’d loved her, truly loved her, he would have stayed, tried to find a way of making it work, delved into magics, dimensions, anything to find a way. Oh Angel had loved her, she was certain of that. But he’d loved the despair of forbidden love even more.

But Spike. She had fought against it, declared it impossible, ignored and rubbished her feelings. But now there was no denying it. When she wasn’t with him, she didn’t have the usual heartache that you felt when a boyfriend wasn’t around, no, she had a griping stomach ache, an emptiness that made her feel hollow and lonely and alone.

And when he was there - she found herself smiling. Heart, body and mind. All three were his. And as she admitted it, she felt an enormous peace flood through her. She had broken through a wall of denial that had caused her so much pain; now she was on the other side and the feeling of relief was marvellous.

Buffy sat up, rolled off the bed, smoothed the quilt straight and crossed to the window. The sun was just beginning to rise, painting the eastern sky with pale apricot and lavender. Another beautiful day. But where did she go from here? Spike was trapped inside William’s body, that much seemed obvious. But how did she get him out? And what would happen to William if she did discover a way of doing so?

By eleven o’clock, she was no further forward in knowing what to do. Willow, Xander, Anya and Dawn were seated round the table in the Magic Box , piles of research books in front of them, trawling for anything that might help them reverse what the Tazkasha acid had caused. William was supposed to be helping, but Buffy noticed he was reading very slowly, peering over the top of his volume at her, his eyes sparkling with pure devilment.

Their walk through the underground passages from Buffy’s basement to the shop had been uneventful - if you didn’t count the number of times William had wrapped his arms round her in the dark and forced her to stop so he could kiss her.

“We’ll be late,” she muttered at last, giving in without a struggle, revelling in the chill of his smooth skin against her breasts as he pushed her T-shirt up and snapped the fastener of her bra without loosing a beat of his tongue against hers.

“Oh Miss Summers, I’m sure they’ll wait for us,” he murmured at last. “Whatever magic your friend Willow is going to do, she can’t start without me, now can she. And if I am going to disappear, then surely it’s only fair you let me do this - ” he bent his head and licked her nipples , the tip of his tongue finding the very sensitive tip of one, a rough finger rubbing the other until it stung.

Buffy could smell her own arousal, heard the guttural groans coming from her throat as she threw her head back against the rock wall of the dark passageway. How did he know how much she loved him doing that. Oh God, her legs were turning to jelly again. She clung to him. “Please - please - ” she moaned feverishly, knowing she was out of control, but aware that she needed this time of release, that her whole life had been spent making decisions, being strong, being the one who took charge. Here in this dark tunnel, with this man, she could be a willing victim, the one who begged, the one who - William’s fingers thrust between her legs and she yelped in delight, then moaned again crossly as he took them away.

“Perhaps we shouldn’t linger, perhaps we should go to this shop you mentioned straight away, Miss Summers,” he whispered in her ear.

“Nooo! Don’t you dare, William. I’ll kill you, I’ll, oh please, please, just - ”

“Say it! Tell me what you want”

“No. Just do it.”

“Tell me - “

She felt him vamp out, then he was on his knees, his mouth, oh, god, his tongue was inside her. She clenched her hands in the blond curls and tried to press his face closer. “Make love to me. Make me come. Oh please, make me come.”

She felt the smile on his mouth, then his hands were pushing her legs wide apart and his clever tongue began to lick harder, swifter, deeper and in the dark, all she was aware of was coming and coming, screaming silently into the still air.

Buffy looked up from the volume she was studying to find William grinning at her again. She scowled at him, stood up and walked across to a far shelf to return the book. He followed her, leaning across to reach down a heavy volume from the top shelf. “Stop making faces at me!” she hissed.

“Why Miss Summers, are you ashamed of our actions?” William said mockingly. “What is there of which to be ashamed? I thought you and this - Spike - were lovers. As you and I are.”

“Well, yes, we are,” Buffy said, glancing over her shoulder to make sure none of the others could hear them. “But my friends - well, they wouldn’t understand. They don’t know - ”

“That you love Spike. That you love me?” William was frowning suddenly, the soft gentian blue eyes hardening into icy chips. “So you are ashamed of our actions - or is the truth that you are ashamed of me?”

“Yes - no, of course not - look, William, you can’t possibly understand. It’s very complicated.”

William leant back against the book shelves and looked at her, his face serious, all laughter gone. “Love is complicated? I thought it a very straight forward emotion, Miss Summers. You say you love Spike and yet you will not admit this to your friends and family. Is that true?”

“Well, yes, but you see - ”

The vampire stood upright and turned away from her. “Then I feel extremely sorry for this Spike,” he said quietly and with a few long strides, left her and returned to the others with his books.

“Xander, stop jiggling the table,” Anya demanded. “You’re making all the papers slide off this end. It’s all wibbly-wobbly.”

“Xander can never read without moving his feet,” Dawn commented dryly, turning a page and averting her eyes from the picture. She knew Buffy only let her do research if she stuck to the text.

“I get cramp in my toes,” Xander complained. “They may be manly and perfectly formed - and not hairy like some people’s I could mention but won’t! - but they still get cramp when they have to be inactive for hour upon hour.”

A couple of minutes silence followed, then, “Xander! The papers are still falling off the table!”

“It isn’t all me,” Xander said, his voice muffled from his head being upside down. “The legs of the table aren’t even. There’s a book stuck under one of them. Hang on a minute - there!”

With a thud, he appeared, scarlet faced, waving a small red leather covered book in the air. “Xander saves the day - again! No more wibble-wobble - no more - ”

“Hey, listen to this!” Willow had taken the book from his hand and was reading the page it had fallen open at. “Buffy - William - everyone - listen. This is a very old book. One of the oldest I’ve ever seen here in the Magic Shop. I think this might be what we are looking for.”

Five pairs of eyes turned in her direction as she began to read…

“A demon’s fire changes all,  
The old returns.  
Love alone can break the thrall,  
Passion burns.  
Past and present merged must be,  
By love, desire and need times three.“

There was a long silence. Willow looked up, biting her bottom lip, her brown eyes huge. “Buffy - I - I don’t know what else this can mean except that - ” she stopped.

“Oh, really,” Anya broke in brightly. “It’s quite clear. Buffy has got to make love to William. And want to. Three times!”

 

to be continued.


	8. Never Ever Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A demon attack has left Spike badly burnt and when he recovers, Buffy discovers it is William who now inhabits the vampire's body. She is desperate for help in discovering some way to get Spike back, but the spell the Scoobies discover opens up a whole world of pain - for everyone!

Chapter 8 : Never Ever Work 

“A demon’s fire changes all,  
The old returns.  
Love alone can break the thrall,  
Passion burns.  
Past and present merged must be,  
By love, desire and need times three.“

 

The roaring in Buffy’s ears diminished slightly and she could hear Xander frantically laughing, and Willow shouting Anya down. Dawn was silent, her gaze flashing from one to the other. William was silent, too, sitting next to Dawn on the far side of the table, staring at Buffy, his eyes questioning under dark brows. 

“Honestly, Ahn, I think you’ve been drinking far too much coffee! That’s the most ridiculous piece of demon translation I’ve ever heard,” Xander said angrily. “As if Buffy would ever let Spike, William - whoever the hell this is, touch her, let alone - well, let alone do anything else!”

“Well, what else does the charm mean then?” Anya said crossly. “It seems pretty plain to me. ‘A demon’s fire changes all’ - well, that was obviously the acid from the Tazksha demon burning Spike. ‘The old returns’ - that’s William. ‘Love alone can break the thrall’ - obvious. ‘Passion burns’ - well, I’m not sure about that, but I expect it will make sense as we go along. ‘Past and present merged must be, by love, desire and need times three.’ To merge Spike and William, there has to be a hell of a lot of intimacy. And there’s no use you pulling faces at me, Xander Harris. A charm is a charm - I didn’t write it.”

“Buffy - ? ” Willow had been staring at her friend’s face. There was an expression on it that she didn’t recognise, but she was beginning to get that headachey feeling inside her that she always experienced just before a storm broke. The very air seemed to be getting heavier and hotter.

Buffy glanced swiftly at her and then at Dawn. Willow caught the look and nodded slightly. “Well,” she said brightly, “this research hasn’t done us much good, has it? Apart from one stupid charm that obviously doesn’t fit the situation.”

The last sentence was almost a question. There was a long silence. Buffy felt a surge of resentment flood over her. This wasn’t fair! Why couldn’t she just tell them, like any ordinary girl, that she was having a relationship with a guy and yes, there would be no difficulty at all in making love to him three times. Three hundred wouldn’t be enough to quench the thirst for him that burnt inside her.

She took a deep breath - all it would take was one little step, out over the precipice of fear, of being shunned by her friends, shut out from the support and affection that had given her a semblance of normality all these years. Then she paused. She could hear Xander’s scorn, see the disgust in Willow’s eyes, the horror in Dawn’s. She could only imagine the disappointment, worry and - yes - angry revulsion that Giles would show.

This wouldn’t be the same as when he’d learned she’d slept with Angel all those years ago. He wouldn’t ”support and respect” her this time. She was no longer a wide-eyed seventeen year old. She was twenty-one, a mature Slayer who knew all there was to know about vampires and demons. Giles would see a relationship with Spike as a dreadful mistake and one she would be making in cold blood, without the caveat of love. Because he would never believe she could love William.

“We’ll discuss it all later,” she said abruptly. “William - come with me. We need to get you some more clothes. You can’t hang around in those old pants and T-shirt. They don’t fit you.”

“If you decide to have sex with him, keep count of the times,” Anya called after them as they headed down the staircase into the basement.

“Anya!”

“There’s no need to shout, Xander. Keeping records is a very important aspect of any task and if Buffy and William have to do it three times, then....” Her voice grew muffled as they reached the basement and with a sigh of relief, Buffy picked up a flash-light and headed away down the tunnel towards Spike’s crypt. William padded silently behind her. It was amazing, Buffy thought, how quickly he was adapting to this new world. He no longer asked awkward questions about what he saw and heard. 

Buffy felt the hairs on the back of her neck wriggle. William or Spike, it obviously made no difference to her in-built radar where he was concerned. She shrugged, wondering how she could ever explain to Giles and the rest of the gang that this was the only vampire she could bear to walk behind her. That she never felt a moment’s unease - well, not in a frightening way, at least.

“You’re very quiet,” she said now as they hurried along the echoing stone passage, the beam from the flash-light swinging out in front of them.

“You did not wish me to speak, back in the strange shop,” William said courteously. “It was plain to me that you did not desire our physical togetherness to become the common knowledge of your friends and sister.”

“I realise that it looks mega odd,” Buffy said hesitantly. “They wouldn’t approve - they don’t know that Spike and I - that we’re - that you and I are - ”

“Already lovers?”

“Well, yes.”

“And their approval is all important to you? More important than your feelings for Spike or me.”

“You are Spike. Or rather Spike is you, William. You’re the same person, but at different times.”

“My question remains.” A pale hand shot out and grasped Buffy’s arm. She gasped, flinched and the flashlight crashed to the ground with a smash, the light extinguishing, leaving them in complete darkness.

He pulled her close to him, until the length of her body was touching his. She felt limp in his arms, unable to pull away. When he bent his head to kiss her, she felt her legs weaken and if he hadn’t been holding her tight, she would have slid to the ground. His lips were so cool, hers burning hot. When he raised his head, she felt two weary tears ooze from the corners of her eyes and slide slowly down her cheek. He must have sensed them because his mouth took both of them before they left her face and she heard him muttering deep in his chest.

“I want to tell them,” she whispered. “But I can’t.”

“I think your red-headed friend guesses,” William said slowly, rubbing his chin across the top of her head. “The boy who thinks he loves you does not.”

“The boy who - oh, you mean Xander. Spike calls him a boy, too. And what do you mean, he thinks he loves me? He loves Anya.”

“Yes, he does,” William acknowledged. “But he believes he loves you, too. You are the grand passion, the unobtainable dream. I have such a one - a beautiful girl called Cecily. She is so far above me in life. She will never notice me, and until I met you, I believed that what I felt for her was eternal love. But then I woke up in your time and country, Buffy, met you and realised - ”

“What?”

She could feel the skin of his face crease as he smiled. “What love was all about.”

“Do you believe the charm is true?” she whispered, loving the comfort of his arms holding her so safe in the black depths of the tunnel and feeling so pleased that at last he’d stopped calling her Miss Summers

William shook his head. He didn’t need illumination to see in the dark. It was all very obvious to him. “We have made love many times, Buffy. I admit that perhaps during the last two occasions, it was different in some way. I felt - I felt as if I was two people in one body.”

“Then, if we do it again, Spike might come back - you’ll stop being two vampires and become just the one again?”

“You’re forgetting the words of the charm. Desire and need - I think we have experienced both of those. That leaves us with love, to fulfil the charm.”

Buffy tightened her grip and burrowed her head even closer to his chest. “I love Spike,“ she whispered softly, knowing that the vampire’s acute hearing would pick up every sound.

“But do you love William?” came the reply, flashing down from above her head. “I think that is what has been holding back the magic. We have made the beast with two backs too many times already. If the charm had been going to work, I believe it would have done so by now.”

Buffy shook her head and pulled away from him. “No, that doesn’t make any sense,” she said and began to walk on down the passage, feeling her way between the rock walls. 

William moved past her and took her hand, leading her surely and swiftly forward. Finally, she felt the air freshen and and the utter darkness lightened as they reached the bottom room of Spike’s crypt. A small oil lamp was still burning in one corner and its flickering light cast jumping shadows over the huge bed with its black sheets and scarlet cover. Buffy stood gazing at it, remembering all the times she’d lain naked on it, her body golden against the black, entwined with Spike’s pale, muscled limbs, aching with desire and need, listening to him telling her how much he loved her -

William was busily investigating a closet, pulling on a black T shirt and jeans, eagerly experimenting with the metal zip.

“The charm is never going to work,” Buffy said slowly, sinking down onto the bed.

The vampire looked down at her, his expression becoming serious as he took in the look on her face. “Why not?”

“Because Spike loves me and I - ” she took a deep breath, “I love Spike. But you, William, you don’t really love me - you still love Cecily. You as good as admitted it just now. And I don’t love you. I need you and desire you, that part is right but - ” her voice began to shake as the enormity of the truth began to sink in. “I can never love ‘William’ because I love ‘Spike’. So the charm will never, ever work.”

to be continued


	9. Like Ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Struggling to find a way of getting Spike back into his body even though that would mean the end of William, Buffy is now faced with trying to find an answer to the demon charm the Scoobies have discovered. And she has realised that because she loves Spike and William still loves Cecily, it can never work.

Chp 9 : Like Ice

 

“A demon’s fire changes all,  
The Old Returns,  
Love Alone can break the thrall,  
Passion Burns,  
Past and present merged must be  
By Love, desire and need times three”

 

William flung himself down onto the bed next to her and lay, gazing up at the rocky ceiling of the crypt that was apparently his home. He clasped his hands behind his head and sighed. His life had taken such an odd turn since that night in London, the night of Cecily’s party. But oddly, he wasn’t unhappy. There was a part of him that welcomed the strange happenings – as if he’d been waiting all his life for something miraculous to happen to him and now it had. The world of London, home, mother, a life of quiet gentility, not rich, not poor, trying to fit in, trying to be good enough for - her. It had all gone. In a blink of an eye. He couldn’t even remember it going.

He was alive over a hundred years later than his own time. He was in a foreign country seeing marvels and inventions that amazed and astounded him. And, strangest of all, he was a vampire. Why didn’t that worry him? He should have felt sick with disgust and self-hatred. He was a good Christian, went to church with mother every Sunday, took communion, sang hymns, listened to the long, long sermons, tried to be a good man. Being evil, a blood-drinking vampire should have terrified and disgusted him. But – it didn’t. Apparently he’d killed, hundreds of people, but that had been Spike. Not him. He felt no guilt for Spike’s crimes. And indeed, were they crimes if that was what you were born to do? Did the lion feel guilt when it tore out a gazelle’s throat to feed? 

He rolled over and propped himself up on one elbow. The woman sitting on the edge of the bed filled his gaze. Miss Buffy – what a whimsical name – Summers. Was she the reason that he accepted what he’d become so easily? She had shown him another world – not just the geographical one, but also a world of physical beauty and power and passion. William frowned. There were tears in her eyes and she was staring down at her hands, unhappiness plain on every inch of her body.

“You say the charm won’t work because you love Spike,” he said. 

“And you love Cecily.”

William ran a finger down her cheek. “I know I am new to this magical world, but it seems a very strange charm if there is no chance of it working at all.”

Buffy leant back against the crimson pillows, soothed by his hand stroking her hair. She found herself smiling. William was logical in a way Spike could never be. “You’re saying we’re wrong in the way we’re interpreting the words?”

William shrugged. “You may be surprised to hear this, Miss Buffy, but I – I write – well, I try to write poetry.” He caught her glance and ducked his head, embarrassed. “Yes, I’m sure it is not accepted in this world and time, but in my day, men wrote verses to their lady-loves. I know I am not a good poet. I try, but sometimes I cannot find the right words to express my innermost feelings.”

“Hey, I can’t find the words to express myself in words most of the time!”

William smiled, pleased to see that some of the strain was leaving her face. “You’re very kind, but I know my limitations. But one thing I do know is that sometimes poetry says one thing and means another. Perhaps the charm is such a verse.”

“A demon’s fire changes all,  
The Old Returns,  
Love Alone can break the thrall,  
Passion Burns,  
Past and present merged must be  
By Love, desire and need times three”

Buffy repeated slowly, the words etched in her brain in a way poetry never did in class. “Seems straightforward to me. The demon's fire burnt Spike. The Old returns. That's you, etc. etc. Love, desire and need, that must mean sex. Except we've already made love more than three times. So not just sex. I still think that the Love word is the one that ruins it. What else could it mean?”

William jumped off the bed and held out his hand to her. Standing there in tight black T-shirt and jeans, he looked far more like Spike than he had since he’d appeared out on the island.

She reached out and he pulled her off the bed and held her close. “I suggest we wait and see what happens. Unless – ” his eyes gleamed with mischief – “unless you’d like to experiment. We could have sex here, in Spike’s bed, to see if that helped. If I vanish and Spike returns, then – well, you’d know that the charm was right, after all and the emotion of love is not required, just the act.”

Buffy gazed back at the inviting spread of velvet and silk and fought the temptation that swirled over her. Then a cold chill ran through her. If they did – well – have sex and Spike came back, then all her friends would know exactly what they’d done. They’d know, without any doubts, that she loved Spike. And what would happen then? OK, she’d have Spike, but – how could that work? Would he move in with her? A Slayer and a vampire living under the same roof. Oh yes, that was really going to go down well with everyone. She’d have no friends, no family, the whole intricate fabric of her Slayer life would be torn apart. 

“We haven’t got time – they’ll be waiting for us,” she muttered and turned away, heading for the tunnel that lead back to the Magic Shop.

William stared after her. He could sense the battle that was going on inside her, but realised he didn’t fully understand. All he could do was be there for her, he decided and wondered what it was about this Spike that made him such a good mate for this very special woman.

He wandered around the bedchamber of the crypt, examining the books, the clothes, notepads, pencils, a sketchbook full of charcoal drawings of Miss Buffy and Miss Dawn, bottles of wine and whisky, the atmosphere of the place. And he realised that it should have felt strange and unfamiliar to him, but it didn’t. It felt like home.

He ran his fingers through his hair and wondered exactly where the magical item was inside his head that the military had placed there. Mr Harris had taken great delight in telling him about that. It made him incapable of harming another living thing, apparently. Which was good, because he had no desire to hurt anything.

“William!” 

He could hear her calling him from deep under the ground and, with a last lingering glance round the crypt, turned and walked after her.

Later that night, William looked up from where he and Dawn were sitting on the sofa, eating a confection called popcorn and watching the box in the corner of the room that provided the moving pictures.

Buffy came downstairs, pulling on her jacket. “Going out on patrol, Dawnie. Willow’s upstairs in her room. Go to bed soon. I’ll see you tomorrow, William.”

The vampire stood up. “Patrol, Miss Buffy? Is this another military aspect of your life I have yet to learn about?”

“Well, if you call wandering around graveyards, hunting for vamps and demons a military thing, then yes. And, actually, I’d rather you didn’t, because hey, had a boyfriend once who was far too involved with the whole soldier, soldier bit.”

“My father wished me to enter the army,” William said reminiscently. “But he died before I was old enough to do so and although I would have done so for his sake, I had to stay home to take care of Mother.”

Buffy stared at him. Odd, she’d never really thought about Spike’s father. Somehow in all the Angel/Dru/Darla siring muddle, his actual real life dad had got overlooked. “What was he like?”

“Shall I tell you as we go?” he suggested. “I would find a patrol interesting to watch, I am sure.”

She hesitated, then nodded. Perhaps it would be a good idea to have him in her sight. “OK, but stand back while I’m working. Spike butts in all the time!”

William raised a scarred eyebrow and her stomach churned. “I would certainly not want to cause you the same sort of annoyance.”

“You have no idea of the sort of annoyance you are causing me,” Buffy muttered under her breath as they walked along the sidewalk towards the cemetery.

“My father was a military man,” William said suddenly into the silence. “I’m afraid I was a great disappointment to him.”

“Why?”

“He wanted a son to be like him, to follow in his footsteps. I’m afraid I was no good at sport. I can ride, of course, but I’m not very good with a gun and I found the marching and saluting especially difficult when I was a child. Father used to make me practice every morning, rain or shine. I had to march up and down the garden path, two hundred times, salute and execute the correct turn each time. If he caught me out of step, I would have to go back to the beginning and start again.”

Buffy found that without realising, she’d reached out to grasp his hand. “That’s awful, William. A form of torture.”

William laughed gently. “Torture? Goodness me, no, Miss Buffy. A child has to be taught his lessons, to obey his elders and betters. My father was very strict and wanted me to go into the Army. So my training began very early. Sadly, though, he died when I was thirteen.”

“In some great battle.”

“No. Measles.”

“Oh!”

“And what about your father and mother? Are you and Miss Dawn orphans?”

“Mom died – quite recently.” Buffy found the tears welling up in her eyes and swallowed hard. She wondered if it was the right time to tell him that she’d died, too. “My Dad – well – he’s alive. But he and Mom got divorced some years back now. He’s with someone else.“

William stopped in mid stride. “A divorce? Goodness – I don’t believe I’ve ever met anyone who put aside their marriage vows.”

Buffy grinned at the shock in his voice. “Well, you’ll soon get used to that in this day and age. Ah, here we are, one of Sunnydale’s finest graveyards. Now, all we want is a couple of vamps to appear, and I can show you how I spend every evening of my life.”

“Someone has lit a bonfire over there,” William stated. “I feel that is not seemly in a cemetery.”

Buffy spun round, frowning and with the vampire following, headed towards the flames. The fire was burning fiercely, red, orange and gold, roaring noisily, sending sparks cascading upwards into the night sky. 

“Should we put it out?” William asked, shadows dancing across his face from the leaping flames. “Or find who did it?”

“There’s no water round here,” Buffy replied absently. “And whoever it was is long gone. We’d better just watch it until it dies down.” 

She gazed into the flames; there was something hypnotic about the smoke, the dancing colours, the cold – 

“William! Is it just me? The fire – it isn’t hot!”

William nodded slowly, his eyes gleaming vampire gold in the reflected light. “Indeed, you are correct, Miss Buffy. I noticed that straight away, but thought because I am now a vampire, that perhaps I couldn’t feel heat. Or that it was just one more miracle in this time and place that I didn’t understand. But you are quite right, this fire – the sensation on my body is easy to recognise. It feels like ice!”

Buffy and William walked round to the far side of the blaze. Great waves of icy air were shimmering out of the flames that danced in gold and orange chaos. There was no smoke, just sparks that flung themselves up and up until they vanished into the velvety black sky.

Buffy was aware of William standing at her shoulder – where Spike would have been, of course, guarding her back. But William seemed blissfully unaware of what was going on in the shadows around them. He was staring thoughtfully at the fire, frowning.

“I’m sure you have realised, Miss Buffy, that this is indeed a – ”

“Demon fire? ”

“So, perhaps your friends did misinterpret the charm. This could be the beginning of untangling those strange words.” His hand lightly touched her shoulder and she shuddered with the desire that was always there, waiting to pounce. “If that is true, we do not need to make love three times after all in order to get your Spike back!”

“We’ve done it three times already,” Buffy whispered crossly. “The verse so never made sense where that’s concerned and you know it!” She glanced round. The gold of the flames was reflected in his eyes and for a moment she was lost in the intensity of his gaze. Only the slightly softer, longer curls, no longer held rigidly flat by gel, reminded her that this was William, not Spike.

The mouth that could send her insane with desire curved into a smile but there was no amusement in his voice. “Why, then if it is not any longer part of the charm, there is nothing to stop us – ” He gestured towards the bushes that bordered the pathway. “Except you would rather I was Spike, of course!”

Buffy glanced back at the demon fire. It was flaring brighter and brighter but the chill it gave off was making her shudder as if she were running a fever. Of course it was that and not the persuasive tug of William’s hand in hers that was making her legs shake, make her desperate to make love to this man.

“That’s not true. Well, yes, I miss Spike. I love him, but you – it’s not that I don’t like you, ” she whispered. “I’m on patrol – and – oh!” He had pulled her hand down to his zip and she felt the thrust of his cock pushing at the thin denim jeans.

“Unleash me, Buffy,” he muttered, and even as her fingers fumbled for his belt buckle, she realised he was no longer calling her Miss.

“I’m cold,” she gasped, her teeth chattering.

“Then, perhaps, for once, I’ll feel warm to you, even if I am not Spike!” With one swift, brutal rip, he tore her top open and Buffy realised, with a flood of hot anticipation that this wasn’t going to be William sweetly making love to her like a gentleman and one part of her gloried in the thought. She needed to pit strength against strength and only Spike and now William could give her that. 

Whatever the fire was doing to her, it was affecting William, too. She gasped as his hands covered her breasts. She tugged her jeans down to her knees then kicked off her boots. With a growl, William picked her up and crashed through the bushes to where the grass was damp and long up against an old moss-covered crypt. 

Now they were both naked and his mouth and hands were everywhere, touching, pinching, rubbing, stroking, soft then hard. She tried to push his head down but he pinned her hands above her head and growled, “No! No pretending I am someone else. I’m tired of you wanting Spike when you’ve got me.”

“What? No – wait, I don’t – Oh God!” She realised that William was in full game face as he pushed her thighs apart and plunged inside her. The shock of his thrusting drove her further and further along the grass until she was jammed up against the crypt wall. 

Buffy needed him deeper, harder, oh god this was impossible! In a surge of red-hot burning sensation, she swung her legs up and drummed her heels hard against his swooping shoulders. Her fingers dug into the mud and she felt a nail snap as his tongue filled her mouth, choking down the screams that were rising in a crescendo inside her throat.

“Think – of – me!” William gasped as he thrust in, pulled back then plunged, seeking to get even deeper. “Not – him! He’s not coming back. I’m here. Feel me! All of me!” The fangs slid lower and Buffy gasped as she felt them graze and break the skin just under her nipple.

Now she threw her head back and screamed, feeling her nails scratching deep into his back as her climax began to build in a torrent of burning fluid, fangs and fists dominating her, subduing her, a hoarse voice demanding she loved him, William.

Then with a strength she rarely used, she flipped William over and holding him tightly inside her, changed the angle and leaning over him, let the blood drip off her nipple into his mouth and this time she rode him until he, in turn, screamed for release and they both crashed together into a place they would never be able to forget. 

Buffy struggled to open her eyes as the demon fire flared again behind the bushes. William’s legs were wrapped round hers and she winced as she pulled herself free. The vampire grumbled angrily and reached for her, but she wriggled away.

“We must go home,” she said, trying not to look at him. There was no point in discussing what had happened. Their lovemaking had somehow been affected by the fire; a ride as wild as that couldn’t possibly be caused by anything except magic.

Buffy glanced round the graveyard. It was hard to see into the darkness; the brightness of the fire was ruining her night vision. Obviously William had no such problems. But her senses told her there were no other vamps in the cemetery except William.

“I need to talk to Willow. We need to do some research on demon fires. And fast.” She picked up her top and sighed. It was torn in half and she realised she had nothing to cover her breasts but her denim jacket. She winced as the rough material rubbed at the bite mark. Thank god it was beneath her nipple. At least it wouldn’t show when she wore anything low cut.

William was pulling on Spike’s jeans and boots. He stretched and grinned at her, looking smugly satisfied. “I need to sleep,” he said.

By the time they’d got home, showered and changed and woken Willow it was late. Luckily Dawn didn’t stir, for which “much thankfulness,” Buffy muttered to her friend as she came downstairs, yawning. “I know she wants to help and be involved, but sometimes recently I feel I spend more time looking after her than Slaying. Was she always this clingy? And I know she wasn’t really here, Key and all, but even in my memories she used to be out with her friends a lot, riding bikes, hanging out at the mall, being a pain in the butt, but not under my feet twenty four seven.”

Willow sighed. She knew that Buffy had never come to terms with how her death had affected her friends and family. She’d been so involved with her own feelings of loss at being dragged out of heaven; trying at first to disguise her sense of desolation, then accepting that she had to get on with living again. In all that emotional turmoil, had she ever wondered how Dawn had felt, watching her sister die instead of her? It wasn’t as simple as losing her to an accident. That would have been bad enough. But Dawn had all the additional burden of knowing she was The Key, that Buffy was dying in her place. 

An only child, Willow tried to imagine how she would have felt as a young teenager, if Xander, for example, had died in her place. Guilt, overwhelming, never-ending guilt. And that was what Dawn had had to contend with all those months. If it hadn’t been for Spike – his grief had been hard to watch and Dawn had been jolted out of her own despair in trying to comfort the vampire – Willow had no idea what would have happened to Dawn.

She would never forget her face when Buffy had arrived back. The joy in her eyes had been almost frightening. And now Buffy acted as if she’d been away for the weekend and why was Dawn making such a fuss about it all this time later?

“I think she feels if she lets you out of her sight for long, you’ll vanish,” she said abruptly, “and you don’t help by constantly finding reasons to hang out with Spike, or work double shifts!” and could tell from Buffy’s startled glance that she had spoken in a harsher tone than she meant to use.

“Oh great. Then I’ll just stay at home and babysit Dawn and we can starve happily together. Then maybe everyone will be pleased.”

William stared gravely from one girl to the other and sensed the growing tension in the air. “Well, Miss Dawn is safely in bed now,” he said diplomatically changing the subject. “Have you any ideas about the demon fire we experienced in the cemetery, Miss Willow?”

Willow poured milk on a bowl of cereal and stirred it slowly, round and round. “I’ve read about demon fire somewhere. Not recently, not just in the charm. I’ll hit the Magic Box in the morning and see if I can hunt it up. But Buffy, where exactly was the bonfire?”

“In the old cemetery behind the High School. Just past where those two big stone angels stand,” Buffy said absentmindedly, already worrying about what to do with William when she went to work in the morning.

Willow’s spoon halted half way to her mouth, milk dripping unnoticed onto the table-top. “You don’t mean behind the old Bellingham crypt?”

Buffy frowned. “What? Oh, yes, somewhere round there. I didn’t notice exactly.” She didn’t want to tell Willow that her senses had been too overwhelmed with what William was doing to her to notice the name of the crypt she was lying against as they made love.

Willow stared at her, wide-eyed. William reached over and tidily took the spoon from her frozen hand and replaced it in the bowl. 

“Buffy – don’t you remember whose grave was just there?”

“What – who – oh – OH!” Buffy went pale and stood up, sending her chair flying. The memories came flooding back. “That - that was where The Master was buried, before he was dug up again!”

Willow nodded. 

“But, Will, it can’t be anything to do with him? I pounded his skeleton into bits. He’s gone. Dust. Finished for ever.”

“But what happened to the dust?” the witch whispered, looking uneasily over her shoulder as if that skull-like face was about to appear, the grisly hands reach out to touch her.

“Who was The Master?” William asked cheerfully. “He sounds important.”

“He was a super vampire, head of the Clan of Orios,” Buffy said automatically, all her old loathing of the monster flooding back. “He killed me once. I killed him – twice. ”

William raised his eyebrows but didn’t comment. So much was strange at the moment that perhaps even this odd statement was normal in this place and time.

“Aurelius,” Willow muttered, unable not to correct her friend.

“Whatever! Do you mean you think the demon fire is some way of getting him – what – made whole again? He was dust, dusty bits of dusty dust. Splinters. You could have put what remained of his skull in that egg timer over there. How many times do I have to kill him? And it’s been years. Wouldn’t this have happened ages ago?”

“I don’t know, Buffy. It just seems such a coincidence that the demon fire is burning right about where his original grave was. Perhaps the dust and bits of bone were buried again by some demon –”

“And now he’s coming back!”

“Miss Buffy – I accept that this is all speculation,” William broke in, “but remember the second line of the charm – ”

Buffy stared at him, the horror growing inside her. “The Old Returns,” she whispered, and rubbed her arms, which had suddenly gone cold.

To be continued


	10. Passion Burns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following a demon attack, William has returned to his body and Spike has vanished. Buffy is desperate to get back the man she now admits she loves. And a demon charm seems to show them the way. But now a fire in a graveyard has made them realise that the charm might be referring to quite a different vampire.

“A demon’s fire changes all,  
The old returns.  
Love alone can break the thrall,  
Passion burns.  
Past and present merged must be,  
By love, desire and need times three.“

 

Chp 10 Passion Burns

“Right! That’s it! If old mouldy face is back, I’m emigrating.” Xander stared at Willow in appalled horror.

The whole gang, including Dawn, were sitting round the table at the Magic Box early the next day. Reluctantly, Anya had put the Closed notice on the door, but she kept casting longing looks at the customers who peered inside, then went away. “I don’t see why we can’t talk about this and take money at the same time,” she snapped at Buffy. “Commerce is the life blood of the nation and mine is draining away with every second that door remains shut.”

Willow glared at her. “We’ve got to come up with a plan. If it is The Master who’s been resurrected, then – well, we all know what happened last time.”

Dawn edged a little closer to William. “I wasn’t here then,” she said softly. “Well, in my memory I was. I can remember sitting on the porch, eavesdropping on everyone talking about The Master. But I wasn’t really here at all.”

William considered her gravely. He’d had a brief history of Dawn – The Key - from Buffy, but it was still a difficult aspect of his new life to take seriously. “I can understand, Dawn. I have a memory of him, as well. He seems familiar to me, although I know I’ve never met him.”

Willow looked up sharply. “But in a way, you have. Spike is one of his great great – goodness knows how many times great – grandchildren. I don’t know if they ever met. I don’t think I ever discussed The Master with him. But he probably had some sort of family memory in his brain. Perhaps that’s what you can feel. It’s very interesting.”

Buffy pushed her chair back with a screech. “Interesting isn’t the word I would use, Will. If The Master is back, then I have to find him and kill him, before he starts the whole Harvesting thingy all over again.”

Xander had been staring at one of Willow’s notebooks where she’d scribbled down the charm that was to restore Spike to William’s body. “So, we’ve had the demon fire in the graveyard. We think The Old Returns refers to The Master, so the next line is Love Alone can break the Thrall – passion burns. ” He stared round at the others. “What Love? What Thrall? What Passion? All useful contributions gratefully received. Don’t all rush. First come first served.”

“We’re still not sure that the charm has anything to do with The Master,” Willow said.

“Dawn needs to go to school, Anya needs to open the Magic Box, Xander has to go to work and I need to find The Master if he's out there,” Buffy said standing up abruptly. She didn’t want any more discussion about the charm. Every time she looked at William, memories of what they’d done together rushed back into her brain. 

That last time in the graveyard, the pounding, mind-blowing sex – he’d stayed as William. Spike hadn’t flickered back into reality, not even when he’d – Well, not even then! And the sex had been different, too. It was as if she had no control over what she did. Her brain had been telling her not to do it, but her body had continued, regardless. She was aware that a damp heat was beginning to form between her legs and wished she’d worn jeans and not the summery lavender dress she’d pulled on that morning.

She flashed William a swift glance, then glared at him. He was leaning back in his chair, staring at her, his gaze demanding, intrusive. One hand was gripping the waistband of his jeans and the fingers were splayed out, almost as if he was trying to touch -

Buffy knew instantly that he’d scented her arousal, that like Spike, he knew exactly what she wanted and was willing and eager to give it to her. She bit her lip, hating herself for needing him so much, hating him for – well, she just hated him!

“Buffy, you can’t face The Master on your own,” Willow was saying pedantically. “You’ll need back up.”

Buffy shook her head. “No, Will. Not this time. I’m not sixteen any more. I know a good deal more about dealing with vampires than I did then.”

Willow shot her a meaningful look and nodded once to where Dawn was sitting silently, scribbling on a notepad, her hair falling forward to cover her cheeks 

Buffy sighed. Jeez, they were back to protecting Dawn again. “Look, I just want to find where he is. OK? I promise you, Dawnie, if the situation looks too dangerous, I’ll come back and report and we’ll think again.”

“I think I should accompany you, Buffy,” William said. “I might be able to assist you in some small way. Indeed, I believe I ‘helped’ last night in the cemetery, did I not?” He leant back, stretching his arms above his head, the muscles on his chest pulling the black T-shirt tight, but his blue gaze never left her face and his eyes were telling her of all the unspeakable things he wanted to do to “assist” her.

Buffy nodded, unable to find the words she needed to speak. This was ridiculous! She was behaving like a slut. But, oh god, how she wanted him. And this was William, not Spike. What was making her behave like this? Could you get addicted to sex? Was it like Willow and her magic, Anya and her love of money, or Mr Harris with his drinking?

“Where will you look?” Xander asked.

She struggled to bring her mind back to the problem. “Somewhere deep, dark and disgusting. If he’s here in Sunnydale, he’ll be close to the Hellmouth. William, we need to head back to the cemetery where we were last night: to that crypt where we saw the demon fire.”

Xander stood up. “Come on, Dawnie. I’ll give you a ride to school.”

Anya leapt to her feet and scurried across to the front door. “And I can open the shop immediately for business. A service industry such as this has to be available for people’s needs.”

Willow opened up a vast black bound volume and began flicking the pages. “I’ll keep on with the demon fire research, Buff. I know I’ve seen a reference to it somewhere. I just can’t find it.” She frowned. She had the feeling that she’d seen it somewhere odd, somewhere unexpected, but she couldn’t quite remember. “Anyway, good hunting, and be careful!”

Buffy hardly heard her friends; all she was aware of was William being close behind her as they went down into the basement and started along the tunnel system she knew so well. She was scared, not of the dark, or of her inevitable meeting with The Master; no, she was shaking because her mind and body were roaring with an unquenchable desire. Suddenly, in the dark, a hand touched her elbow and she stopped, but refused to turn round.

The dark closed over her like a cloak as, without a word, she felt him lift her skirt up over her hips. A finger ran down between the cheeks of her backside and she felt a fleeting wash of shame because she realised now that she’d deliberately not worn any panties that morning. She spread her legs, bracing her hands against the walls of the tunnel. This was insanity. She couldn’t, shouldn’t, be doing this. 

Why wouldn’t he speak? Why couldn’t she say something – anything – like stop, don’t do that, I don’t want you to touch me there, you’re not Spike, I don’t love you –- why were the words she heard in her head, “oh god, yes, oh please, please, touch me, I need you inside, oh god, oh god, yesssss.”

Then it was over and she was stumbling away from him, down the passage, shaking and cold, and all she could hear was the crunch of his boots on the stony ground and the thundering of her heart,

“Buffy!” His voice was hoarse, grating through the dark. She stopped, trying to catch her breath.

“What do you want, William? More of the same? ” The bitterness in her tone dropped like acid between them, eating away at any rapport they might have built over the last few days.

“I don’t…. I don’t understand what is happening to me.” The vampire sounded puzzled, almost – and this was a ridiculous word to use where he was concerned – scared.

“What do you mean?”

William reached out a hand in the dark, but she was just out of reach. He didn’t know how to put into words the sensations that had started to consume him. When he’d first realised that he was in this different world, the discovery of sex had been a delight, incredible fun, a physical joy. And this girl, standing now in the dark, trying to catch her breath, she had seemed like a beautiful flower, opening up to him, graceful, welcoming, intent on showing him exactly how marvellous two human bodies could be when they were so in tune with each other, even though he’d always known it was Spike she loved, Spike who held the secret to owning her heart.

But now – last night, out in the cemetery, by the light of the demon fire, he hadn’t wanted to make love, he’d wanted sex. And just now, he’d smelt her and took her. The fact that she hadn’t said no made no difference. He had the dull, queasy feeling inside him that he would have taken her by force anyway. “I can’t stop thinking about you. I want you! I burn with desire. It’s overwhelming me and every second it gets worse.”

Buffy shuddered. Burn with desire. That was exactly how she felt for William. This wasn’t how she felt when she was with Spike. Oh, she didn’t want her friends to know she was sleeping with him; perhaps she was even ashamed of what they were doing. But she was in control. She chose to sleep with him, every time; she was involved, an equal partner.

But since she and William had seen the demon fire in the graveyard, she’d felt divorced from her body; she was no longer in control. She burnt with passion - Oh My God. “Passion burns,” she whispered into the darkness that clung to them like black fog. “William, the line of the charm. That’s what’s happening to us.”

Back in the Magic Box, Willow had climbed the steps to the top level and was hunting amongst a collection of dusty leather volumes that lay piled together behind some cardboard boxes. She knew that Giles had left them there, deliberately out of sight from Dawnie's eyes. And underneath the books was a small black box. Ancient and dented, the lock had been broken a long time ago, but Willow had opened it when she’d first met Tara, searching for answers to the feelings that were coursing through her body.

Every time she said the charm to herself, it rang a distant bell in her head and at last, she’d vaguely remembered where she’d heard about thrall charms before. There it was – and inside the box was a book of handwritten notes, penned in faded brown ink. There were the drawings – some of which were so explicit that she could feel the heat rising in her face, even though she was quite alone in the top of the shop. Willow remembered with a flash of shame that she’d shut the book and pushed it back into its box the first time, because these pictures had nothing to do with her and Tara.

But somewhere in this volume was the note that had slid into her subconscious mind and was now trying to get to the front of her brain. Her fingers were trembling as she turned the pages; she could feel the evil coming off the pages, an evil that was thrilled to recognise the power inside her.

Instinctively, she knew the page when she found it – Demon Fire – the script was old and twisted, but she could still read it. And the words took the strength from her legs and she slid to the floor, her head whirling. Because this wasn’t just about The Master returning. This was about the Slayer and what his demon fire had done to her.

To be continued


	11. Charms and Thralls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we learn about the origin of the Demon Charm and Willow tries to explain the workings of The Thrall to Buffy and William.

Chp 11 Charms and Thralls

 

“A demon’s fire changes all,  
The Old Returns,  
Love Alone can break the Thrall,  
Passion Burns,  
Past and present merged must be  
By Love, desire and need times three”

 

In the darkest reaches of demon life, the one who would long in the future be called The Master was just beginning his reign. The face that would slowly turn into a skull like mask was now cruelly good-looking, but the thin lips and yellow eyes never changed. He was walking slowly through a Saxon settlement towards the squat shape of the church the inhabitants had recently built from roughly hewn stone. Bodies lay in every direction; screams still rang out from where his companions were enjoying themselves in a sea of blood and terror.

He’d already been alive for a very long time, working his way surely upwards through the ranks of the Aurelius Clan by destroying anyone who opposed him. Now, with this massacre, he had reached his rightful place as Head. There was only one thing stopping him from fully enjoying his day, but within a few minutes the last young monk who worked in the church would be dead – or, wait, perhaps he would turn him. That would be amusing – for a while.

In the depths of the crypt under the church, Brother Francis scrubbed at his runny nose with the back of his hand. He was shaking and scared, knowing that he was going to die. He wasn’t afraid of death itself: he’d often dreamed of being a martyr like those Christians who’d been fed to the lions in Rome. No, it was the manner of his death that terrified him. He knew what was coming for him, what had devastated all the villages for miles and he had no defence against it. Even now he could run – he’d already pushed aside the great stone that was covering the entrance to a passageway that cut through the rock and came up on the beach, miles away. But he couldn’t go – not yet.

He stared at the tiny old man who was sitting, writing at the table. He was the oldest man Brother Francis had ever seen, wizened and wrinkled, his fingers like twigs as he wrote. “Hurry! Oh please, hurry!” Brother Francis moaned and the old man looked up sharply.

“I can’t stop him now,” he muttered, his milky blue eyes very bright in the wrinkled apple face as he gazed into a future only he could see. “The only thing I can do is stop him and his kind in the far distant future. This charm needs a special vampire and – ” he frowned and shuddered – “a female who feels no fear.”

Brother Francis was jolted out of his misery. “A woman! How could a weak woman fight that – that monster?”

The old man forced his gnarled hand to write faster. “Not just the monster, but what he begets,” he muttered. “She will be here when needed and with the help of a vampire, she will break the Thrall. She will be strong.”

The quill spluttered to a halt as the crashing of a door in the church above sent the blood draining from Brother Francis’ face. The old man held out the book. “Take it! Go quickly. Show it to the new priest who will be here. Next year a vampire will rise, a Slayer will come and this demon will be defeated once and for all.”

Brother Francis pushed the book inside his robe and fled, his sandals making no noise on the stones. He’d only gone a hundred yards into the dark when he heard a high-pitched scream behind him and knew the demon had found the old man. And he ran and ran, not realising that the book had slipped from his sleeve as he entered the tunnel, falling unnoticed behind a pile of old parchments.

So there was nothing to give to the new priest the following year and a Slayer who couldn’t read or write and knew nothing of charms, Thralls and prophecies began her own dance with a vampire but their story ended all too quickly with blood and fangs. The book was lost, its message forgotten and the master demon became The Master…..

… Buffy and William were sitting in a dark cold tunnel leading out of the Magic Box basement. She pressed herself against the stone wall, trying to cool her burning body with the stone and damp earth. Just a few inches away, a faint wash of light filtered down from a grating high above them and she could see William, his head buried on his arms and knew, instinctively, that he was fighting the same urges she was – to bite and fight and make him take her.

She gripped her hands around her knees and struggled to control the feelings that coursed through her, because she knew they weren’t real. It was as if she was being driven by a desire that inhabited her body but wasn’t hers.

“This is madness,” she heard William gasp and saw him start to get up, then half throw himself back down again. “What spell can drive a man mad like this?”

“It’s the Demon Charm. It must be. I want –I want – you! Now!” Before she could stop herself, she was in his arms, tearing at his T-shirt, desperate to touch him. His hands struggled free long enough to snare in her hair and for a long second they swayed, overwhelmed by desire. Then, slowly, inch-by-inch, they forced themselves apart. Buffy was panting as she looked at his face. She knew the struggle she could see on his face was mirrored on hers.

“Why – why is this happening?” William groaned. “I want you so much, but not in the right way. I have to fight this. I will not succumb to this burning desire.”

Buffy sought desperately in the red mists of passion that were flowing through her brain. “It’s the Charm,” she said at last, increasing the pressure on William’s hands, keeping the distance between them. “This is the passion that burns.”

“But what is it for?” William sounded desperate. Buffy felt a flash of pity surge through her. She had had years of learning to control her feelings. William had had none. The roller-coaster of emotions he’d experienced in the last couple of days – waking up in a different century, a different country and a different body must have been shattering for him. And now this.

“I don’t know. We need to go back to the Magic Box. I can’t fight The Master in this state.”

Reluctantly she let go of his hands and they stumbled back down the passage. Buffy’s skin was burning and she felt sick with lust. But she found if she didn’t look at William, it was a little easier. They reached the basement just as Willow came skimming down the stairs towards them. “Buffy! William! Oh god, are you all right? Buffy, the Charm – it mentions a Thrall – I knew I’d read something about it before. What – what’s the matter?” She skidded to a halt and stared at the couple that were standing, fists clenched, not looking at each other.

Buffy felt another wave of heat flood across her face, but this time it was of embarrassment. How could she tell Willow or any of the others what the charm was doing to her and William?

But the witch seemed to understand. “Buff, you don’t need to say anything. The pictures in the book, the words – oh geez – ”

“Will – ” Buffy forced out the words. “Why is it doing this?” She sank down onto the floor, her legs refusing to hold her up any longer. William slumped onto the basement steps and stared at the redhead, great drops of sweat standing out on his forehead.

The witch pulled out the ancient book from her pocket. “Buffy, this is where I saw the Thrall mentioned. It’s an incredibly old book. All parchment. A lot of it is indecipherable, all faded and torn. But a few pages are quite clear, the Latin readable. Look - these few lines, this is the Demon Charm in Latin and- ” She hesitated, looking flustered. “I won’t show you the illustrations in the rest of the book but, Buffy, they’re so explicit and – ”

Buffy groaned. “Please, I so do not need any prompting in that direction at the moment! Just tell us what’s happening.”

Willow took a deep breath. ‘The Demon Fire charm was written by someone trying to rid the world of The Master and all the Aurelians, once and for all.”

“Well, grading on a scale of A to E, I give him an F for Fail,” Buffy said. “So someone wrote the first charm that Xander found. Then, what, he wrote the Thrall thingy it mentions as well?”

Willow shook her head violently. “No, that’s where we went wrong. The Thrall is what brings The Master back every time he’s killed. This book is far older than the one containing just the Demon Fire charm. Remember the words, Buff, “Love Alone can break The Thrall, Passion Burns,”

“Miss Willow, we thought the Thrall referred to what made me come forward to this time, this body. Now you say it does not?” William asked quietly.

“Exactly! The Thrall has nothing to do with you taking over Spike’s body, William. I thought it did – we all thought it did. But it never made complete sense. Let’s face it, what we read was a medieval English translation of these much older Latin words. How could a charm rely on a stinky Tazksha demon being around just when you wanted one? Anya mentioned that to me right at the beginning when we started researching.”

She hesitated. “OK, saying this very quickly, but Anya was right and I was wrong! There. I’ve said it. Spike was burnt by the Tazksha’s acid and you appeared. But that had nothing to do with the Thrall! We’ve all been misinterpreting the charm.”

Buffy moaned softly. “Will, my head is about to explode. Just explain it all in simple words. Please!”

“I thought I had.” The witch sounded hurt. “OK, Spike burnt by Tazksha. William arrives which confused us and sent us down the wrong path when Xander found the Demon Fire charm and we think it's what is needed to get Spike back. You see fire in graveyard where the Master’s ground up bones were probably scattered. So we think, correctly, that the Old is going to Return. Then I find this book, which explains that the Thrall is the….the whole process that brings the Master back. It describes what happens. The demon fire is the beginning but then for the Master to rise again, something else has to happen. And that involves - well it shows two figures who are clearly a Slayer and a vampire, doing – having – okay, moving right along! So the Thrall shows you the problem but the charm gives you the answer. Whoever wrote this must have been a very clever, clever man. Last time, well, some Slayer had obviously killed him in the past but because they hadn't known about the Thrall, they hadn't completed the charm. And then you killed him before he was completely whole again, I think. And anyway, you didn't have any tame vampires around."

There was a long silence. 

Buffy was slowly beginning to understand. She grasped at the one clear point. “You mean that the demon fire we saw the other night has infected William and me? Given us these – ” she hesitated.

“Feelings!” William said hoarsely, risking a swift look at her, resisting the urge to take her there and then on the basement floor.

“Yes, and Buffy, it’s those feelings that feed the Thrall. If you give in to it and have sex with William, then the Thrall gets stronger and stronger and the Master appears.”

“So it’s nothing to do with Spike,” Buffy whispered, half to herself.

“No, sorry, Buffy. Nothing at all to do with Spike. The Tazksha burning him was just a coincidence. If the two of you had just been here in Sunnydale, the reaction would have been the same. This book makes it clear that the Thrall needs a vampire and a Slayer to be – well, having sex. It feeds off that energy and through that the Master rises.”

Buffy turned her back on William. It was easier if she didn’t look at him. She wished suddenly that Spike was here. William was great, but in this sort of battle, she needed Spike by her side. “What did you mean about killing the Master and all the Aurelians?” she said slowly, Willow’s words beginning to filter down through the scarlet mists of desire that still surrounded her.

“As I said, whoever wrote it - some old monk, I reckon - was very clever. He knew that if some Slayer ever killed him, the Thrall would cause the Master to rise again, so he wrote the Demon Fire charm to tell the Slayer of the day what she must do once that has happened. ‘Past and present merged must be’ it says. “By love, desire and need times three.” OK, haven’t quite worked out the exact meeting of that last line, but I’m working on it. I think it means that, whoever is responsible for breaking the Thrall will also be the one to kill The Master and all the present day Aurelians.”

Buffy turned to stare at her friend, trying to ignore William sitting on the basement steps. “OK, making more sense now. ”

“But Buffy, Miss Willow, I fear I am in no state to fight anything,” William said tersely. “All I want to do is – ”

“Yes, we know exactly what you want to do,” Buffy interrupted hurriedly. “Just keep thinking about something else. And don’t look at me! It helps. But Will, he’s right. I couldn’t swat a fly feeling like this. It’s bad, really bad – I’ve never experienced anything like it – ” 

She was past embarrassment now, past being horrified. She was sick with anger, raging that her innermost emotions were being manipulated in such a way. What should be an expression of how she felt for a man, for someone she loved, was now just sex, lust, a demeaning physical experience. She felt dirty and diminished, used. 

“What happens now?” William asked suddenly. “Perhaps I had better go back to the house. If we’re apart, then nothing can happen and this Master demon will not rise.”

“OK,” Buffy said. “That’s a plan. Makes sense. I’ll stay here and help Willow research, you go home, William.” She turned to see Willow staring at her, biting her lip, her eyes round and anxious. “What?”

“Buffy, I’m sorry, but don’t you see – you have to stay together. In fact, you have to – ” she went very red, “you and William have to, well, be together. Because if the Master rises again, the two of you can fulfil the Demon Fire charm and kill him once and for all.”

To be continued

 

Note: I realise that the Charm and Thrall aspects are complicated. Do let me know if I can in some way make them any simpler!


	12. Fighting Desire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Willow accepts the inevitable and Buffy has a bright idea. Oh no!!

Chp 12 ; Fighting Desire

 

“A demon’s fire changes all,  
The Old Returns,  
Love Alone can break the Thrall,  
Passion Burns,  
Past and present merged must be  
By Love, desire and need times three”

 

Buffy stared at her friend, not quite believing what she was hearing. “You mean, William and I have got to – ”

“Yes! The demon fire you and William saw and tasted in the graveyard inspires lust between you in some way and the Thrall is activated. It forces sex, lust, passion, call it what you like, between the Slayer and her vampire and that makes The Master appear again. Gives him life and form. Then the Demon Fire charm that was written to combat the Master comes into play and between you, you kill him.”

Buffy fought down a sense of helplessness and the very real desire to be physically sick. What sort of twisted, perverted mind had come up with that answer to a vampire problem? She bet it was a man. A nasty, brown-robed, monkish MAN. For a few wild seconds she envied Willow and wished she were gay, too.

William groaned and buried his head deeper in his hands. “Buffy, I want you – I can’t fight this desire much longer. I have to have you – we must –here – now – ”

Willow backed away up the basement steps, her eyes round with horror and embarrassment. “Look, I’m going upstairs to the shop. You two, well, you two do what you have to do. I’ll make sure no one comes down here. ”

“Will!”

“Buffy, what else can we do? The Thrall’s already started. The demon fire has infected you; the Master is on his way. Perhaps it would be better just to get it over and done with.” And she turned and vanished into the shop above.

“Buffy!” William stood up and stumbled towards her, his eyes glazed with lust, his hands reaching for her.

Buffy backed away. He looked like Spike, sounded like Spike, but he wasn’t the man she loved. OK, she’d had sex with him, lots of times since his appearance, but that had been playing, fun, stepping away from the realities of Slayerdom and life as a resentful mom to Dawn. Oh God, Dawn! How could she ever explain to her what they were doing?

“William! No! Fight it,” she muttered, then realised that her body was betraying her, too. She was inching towards him, aching for him. Her legs were trembling with desire and she felt wet and excited. If he would only touch her, rip her clothes away, enter her, …. Pictures and sensations flooded her brain, all the times they’d made love, what they’d done to each other, the mind-shattering bliss of climaxing with him deep inside her - oh god, she was going mad!

If he had been Spike, she doubted if she could have resisted – but this wasn’t Spike! This was William and she didn’t love him! And she was the Slayer and she refused to be manipulated any more by charms and thralls and demons! Enough of her life was controlled by forces she couldn’t influence, but she was damned if her sex life was going to be one of them, no matter what some mouldy old monk had decided centuries ago.

She pushed William aside with all the force she could muster. Off balance, he crashed to the floor, hitting his head a stunning blow on the side of a large box and lay, groaning. She hesitated for a moment, then turned away. The body was the same but this wasn’t Spike and Spike was whom she needed. No one else would do. Need? Yes, she needed Spike. The word rang in her head. And suddenly she knew what to do.

Buffy fled up the steps into the Magic Box. There was no sign of Willow but Anya had a whole line of people waiting to be served and only glanced at Buffy as the Slayer ran up the wooden ladder to the top gallery of the shop. On the floor, the book where Willow had read about the Thrall still lay open. She cast a glance at the illustrations and shuddered. Yes, there was no mistaking exactly what a Slayer and vampire needed to do to make the Master rise again!

Buffy stared around at the shelves sagging with hundreds of different volumes. As she’d pushed William away from her, the glimmering of an idea had flashed into her mind. She needed Spike – needed him desperately. She hadn’t a single clue what to do next, but there must be a book up here that would help her.

She knelt down and began pulling out the heavy leather-covered volumes, sneezing at the dust – did Anya never clean up here - flicking through them, searching for a name, a word, the one thing she needed. She knew she didn’t have much time. William would wake soon and come looking for her. She’d resisted him once. Could she do that again? Even a single thought about his mouth, his body, the way he made her feel was enough to send her screaming over the edge into a sex lust filled hell.

Wait! There was the name! She knew she’d find it. Toth. The demon that’d split Xander into two people a year ago.

“Buffy! What on earth are you doing? Those books aren’t for sale! But I suppose if you want to purchase one, I could work out a good price for you.”

Anya stood gazing down at her, frowning. Buffy waved at the book. “Look, Anya, Toth!”

“Toth? That was the tall skanky thing that gave me two Xanders until Willow merged them again. And I still don‘t understand why she did that. I could have managed both of them perfectly well. We could have worked out a rota.”

Buffy was staring at the page. “What? Yes, I suppose you could, But it might have made having a shower a problem. Listen, Anya. That rod thingy the Toth used – ”

“The Ferula-Gemina. A doubling rod.”

“Yes, have we got one in the shop?”

Anya frowned, suddenly serious. “Buffy, it’s an incredibly dangerous thing to have lying around. Anything could happen if someone picked it up and didn’t know what it could do. You could double the population of Sunnydale overnight!”

Buffy sighed. “OK, Anya, so are you saying we do have one?”

The ex-demon hesitated. “Well, Giles had a safe installed in the basement just after he bought the shop. If we’ve got one, it’ll be locked in there.”

Buffy leapt to her feet. “Come on! Show me.”

“Buffy – I’ve got customers waiting. Customers waiting to give me money!”

“Close the shop, Anya. This is important.”

Anya opened her mouth to argue, but there was something about the set of Buffy’s chin and the chilling sea green of her eyes that stopped her. Without another word she went back downstairs and ushered the remaining customers out of the shop. She picked up a long silver key from beneath the drawer in the cash register and silently followed Buffy back down into the basement. She gasped as she saw William picking himself up off the floor, clutching his head and groaning as blood dripped through his fingers.

“What happened?”

“Don’t worry about him. Find the rod, Anya. I didn’t know Giles had a safe down here.”

Anya began moving boxes aside. “Of course there’s a safe. I am an extremely responsible shop owner. I’ve all sorts of very, very dangerous objects and potions that can’t be left lying around for the uninitiated to find. What if Dawnie discovered a potion to make her all green glowy energy again. What if Xander found a spell that made him irresistible to men!” She heaved the final box aside and pointing to where a safe stood against the wall, she handed Buffy the key. “If the Ferula-Gemina is anywhere, it’ll be in there.”

“Buffy – what are you doing?” William stood, swaying, the desire in his eyes still blazing bluely across the room at her.

“William, I need Spike back. This is our only chance of getting him. This demon rod split Xander into two different people, but they were both him, just had different parts of his character. It’s complicated. I don’t understand it and I don’t know if it will work on you, but I need to try.”

“Buffy!” Anya took a step back. “Wait! Let me fetch Willow. This is really dark magic. You mustn’t – you don‘t know what will happen if you split a vampire into two. You might get hundreds of Spikes!”

Buffy laughed bitterly. “And need to have sex with all of them!”

“What! Sex? Who was talking about sex?” Anya’s voice went off the scale of squeal.

Buffy turned the silver key in the safe lock and swung open the heavy door. “There isn’t time to explain now. Believe me, “ She stared inside, gingerly pushing aside various bundles and boxes, bottles and bags. Then she gasped as she spotted something familiar lying at the back of the top shelf. “Here it is!”

She turned and Anya promptly took several steps backwards. “Buffy, wait! Think about it. What if it doesn‘t work?”

Buffy shrugged. “Then I give in. Have sex with William and cope with the Master when he rises. And I have to find a way of doing that without all Aurelians dying because Spike's as much an Aurelian as the Master. And I refuse to kill Spike or William or whoever it is. But think Anya, think about the last lines of the Demon Fire charm.”

The blonde girl stood for a second, running the words through her mind. “Past and present merged must be, by love, desire and need times three,” she said slowly.

“Exactly! I know Willow said that the Tazksha demon burning Spike and bringing William to life had nothing to do with this whole Master thing, but I’m not so sure. It’s too much of a coincidence. Spike becomes William so we have two people in one body. Well, I need both of them. There needs to be three of us to tackle the Master. I need Spike back! And if I get him and keep William, then there will be three of us.”

Anya bit her lip hard. “You might kill him and have no one,” she said.

William looked up sharply. “I don’t want to die! Buffy – ”

He stepped forward but it was too late. Buffy twisted the rod and a blinding flash of light hit William squarely in the chest. Once again he went flying across the basement, crashing into the opposite wall. But as he slumped to the floor, a slim, black-coated figure appeared next to him.

A quizzical eyebrow was raised and there was laughter in two very blue eyes that looked across the room. “Bloody hell, Slayer. Whatever you’re doing with that thing, it hurts. And – ” he gazed down at the silent figure by his feet, “Who the hell is that and why is he wearing my denim jacket?”

To be continued


	13. A Sort of Betrayal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Buffy tries to explain to Spike what she had done, William tries to defend a lady and Spike tries not to scream...

Chp 13 : A sort of betrayal

 

“A demon’s fire changes all,  
The Old Returns,  
Love Alone can break the Thrall,  
Passion Burns,  
Past and present merged must be  
By Love, desire and need times three”

 

Spike’s words rang out again round the Magic Box basement. “Have you all been struck dumb overnight? Who the hell is that?”

Anya tossed her head. “It’s you. Except that it isn’t. It’s your earlier self – William. Buffy now has two of you, which I think is extremely unfair as I wasn’t allowed to keep the other Xander!”

Spike shot her a glance, the laughter dying out of his face and whatever the ex-demon girl now saw in his eyes caused her to stop talking, turn and retreat slowly up the steps back into the shop. “Well, I’ll leave you all to do – whatever it is Buffy wants you to do. I’ll go and tell Xander. I expect he’ll be interested. It was his spell and his demon, after all.”

There was a long silence when the upper door banged shut behind her. William was still sitting on the floor, dabbing at the bloody graze on his forehead where Buffy had flung him against a crate. 

“So that’s me? That’s what I look like?” Eyebrows raised, Spike stared down at the man, taking in the black T-shirt and jeans, his spare boots. Identical blue eyes gazed back at him, but William’s expression was softer. 

Buffy nodded, trying to take in the enormity of what she’d just done, fizzing with the joy of having Spike back. “Remember when Xander was split into two people? I used the same rod thingy the Toth did.”

William scrambled to his feet and held out his hand. Of all the weird things that had happened to him recently, this was one of the oddest, but he refused to let that stand in the way of common courtesy. “Good day, sir. This is an odd kettle of fish, eh?”

Spike automatically shook hands, then stepped back, appalled. “God, it is me! What the hell have you done, pet?”

“I need you both,” Buffy said wearily, trying to force her mind to start explaining the complexity of the Charm and the Thrall. “Look, Spike, just believe me, there’s a Charm thingy and a Thrally one as well. The Master’s rising and we have to kill him. Geez, Spike, can you just accept it for now?”

“Buffy has been distraught in her endeavours to find a way to oppose the Master,” William broke in. “And I must apologize, Sir, most profusely, for appropriating your attire, but I found myself clad in next to nothing and - ”

Spike flared into game face and an instant later, William followed.

“You’ve touched her!”

“My right to do what seemed fit – ”

“I’ll tear your bloody head off and - ”

“Try, Sir, try your best!” William flung up his fists into a classical boxer’s stance and Spike shimmered back into normal face, looking bemused.

“You’re a vampire, not an old Harrovian pugilist!”

Buffy pushed between them, her eyes angry. “Enough! All this jealous vampire crap will have to wait.”

Spike stared at her, and as he did so, she could see the warmth and animation drain from his face. “Jealous, pet? Why should I be jealous?” He sat on one of the wooden steps, looking bored. “Hey, last thing I remember Slayer, is seconds ago we were shagging on your picnic – then being attacked by some rotten smelling demon. A Tazksha, I reckon. I take it this – ” he waved a hand at William – “is the result. And it doesn’t need the winner of Mastermind to work out that – ” He lifted his head fractionally and she knew he was smelling himself – or William – on her body – “the shagging has continued. Not sure of the time scale here, pet, but reckon you also knew it wasn’t me!” He fought to control his voice. There was a roaring in his ears, louder than a thousand screaming demons. He stared at the woman he loved and wondered how he could possibly be keeping himself under control. 

The pain of her betrayal was hitting him harder than anything he had ever experienced before. Harder than Dru leaving him. Harder even than when he lost Cecily - when he’d still been the man standing in front of him.

This William might look like him – well Xander’s double had been identical as well, but Anya had had every reason to be uncertain, confused. Spike knew from the expression in her eyes, that Buffy had known – right from the first moment that she was having sex with a stranger. OK, a stranger who wore his body, but a stranger all the same.

“Spike – ” There was enough pain in her voice for both men to look at her sharply.

William took a pace towards her, hesitated, then reached for her hand. “Buffy – Miss Summers – I fear you have created a monster by your magic, but – ” he glanced across at Spike, his soft blue eyes brave – “I also believe there are more important issues to be considered than our own feelings.”

Buffy squeezed his hand, once, in thanks. “Yes. Spike – we’ll talk afterwards – if there is an afterwards. But – ” her eyes flashed in supplication for a second, then in courageous determination – “I needed you both here to help me. William will do his best, but I need you! William has only been a vampire for a couple of days. You’ve got a lifetime – or deathtime – whatever – Spike - it’s the Master. He’s rising and the Thrall – ”

Suddenly she stopped, her eyes widening as the realisation hit that she no longer felt that humiliating, burning desire to have sex with William. OK, she still had a mad desire to run her fingers through Spike’s silly hair and muss it up into curls, but that was a feeling she lived with every day.

“The Thrall has finished,” she said softly. “I can’t feel it any more. So that means The Master has risen.”

“Right! So great, great, great something Daddy’s back.” Spike’s voice flicked out across the basement. “Be interesting to see the old boy again. Any more Aurelian family members coming to the get-together, pet? Darla, Dru, Chief Ponce himself, perhaps?”

Buffy refused to let her expression change. Refused to let him see how much he was hurting her. “No, just the Master. The three of us have to kill him. It’s in the charm.”

“Oh – my – dear – god!” Xander’s voice rang out from above their heads and he slowly walked down the steps from the shop, his face a mask of horrified disbelief. “One is too many. But two Spikes! Come on Buff, what have we done to deserve this? I couldn’t believe Anya when she phoned me. I thought she’d be sampling Giles’ hidden whisky stash.”

“Mr Harris – Xander – ” William looked concerned. “I can well understand that this situation is uncomfortable, but your attitude is – ”

“I wouldn’t bother!” Spike glanced at his other self. “We’re both black-balled at this boy’s club meeting.”

William looked puzzled, then his own softer features hardened slightly. “I can see no reason for the antipathy.”

Spike sighed. “You – me – one or both of us have been shagging the woman he can’t. Although he’d like to!” And he grinned, without humour, at Xander’s furious, embarrassed face.

“Spike!” Buffy’s voice was a whip crack. “Enough! Xander, all this has to wait. Spike and William and me – we make the three in the Charm. Remember? ‘Past and present merged must be, by love desire and need times three.’ I figured it meant Spike had to be called back somehow. And out there in Sunnydale, old wrinkly face is waiting for me again. And I don’t intend to disappoint him.”

Xander hesitated, his gaze switching between the two vampires, his dislike only too apparent. “Every time you open your moth, filth and evil come out,” he said to Spike. “I won’t stay and listen to this sick rubbish. Buffy – I’ll be upstairs with Anya. Let us know if we can help.”

Halfway up the steps he stopped. “Hey, Spike, get Buffy to tell you that it’s all Aurelians who get to perish this time. And if I’m not mistake, that’ll include you, that copy of you and Angel as well!”

The silence in the basement hung like a thick cloying smoke as the door to the shop banged shut behind him. William stood, hands pushed deep into his pockets, staring at the man he had once become and the woman he partly loved. Because he knew he didn’t fully love this small American person. Only days ago, his heart had belonged to Cecily and, if nothing else, he was constant in his feelings, if not in his behaviour.

Although sowing one’s wild oats was not considered an unfaithful act and it wasn’t as if he and Cecily were engaged, although he would have liked them to be. Miss Buffy Summers had initiated him into all the pleasures of the flesh, that was true, but he knew, deep down, that only her body had been involved. Her heart, her mind, her very essence were given – promised – whether she knew it or not – to this…. He struggled to find a word that would suffice. All he could sense was a feeling of such anger and despair that it was hard to remain outside the scalding range of the man’s anger.

And suddenly he realised he didn’t have to. He knew, without a doubt, that if he lost Cecily then he, too, would feel just the same. Do and say and think things that no man would ever believe him capable of envisaging. He gave a sad smile, Indeed, if Buffy Summers was to be believed, he had once done just that and the result was there in front of him, over a century of pain later.

“So, Slayer, when were you going to mention the face that killing Great Great Granddad would get rid of all his clan members as well?” Spike’s voice was as smooth and deadly as satin running across the finest steel blade. “Or perhaps that’s just an added incentive? I’m sure your mates would think so.”

“Spike!” Buffy felt a surge of hurt and anger. Why was he making this so difficult? There was an indifference in his eyes that was new and frightening. This man could never have bought her a beautiful white silk dress, never planned the romantic picnic on the lake, bought champagne, made love to her with such feverish joy that every nerve in her body had sung under his control. This man, she knew, would have thought romantic fripperies like that completely unnecessary.

OK, big problem with the sex and William – and would she ever get over the vampire’s ability to smell what she’d been doing? But this was Spike – she blinked as the thought cascaded through her mind – she trusted him. What the hell? But yes, she trusted him to be there, to help her, to what – give up his unlife for her and the rest of the world?

“Spike, I’ve no intention of letting you and William die. The three of us will find a way. William – look – I realise this isn’t fair on you. It isn’t your fight, but – ”

“Oh William will be at your side, Slayer – to the death,” Spike said swiftly, getting to his feet in one lithe movement. “Poor sod wouldn’t know how else to react if a lady was in danger. Fact that he’s sealing his own death warrant won’t even make him hesitate for a second. ‘Into the Valley of Death rode the Six Hundred’ and all that rubbish, eh, Will? All very Sidney Carton. How did Mr Dickens put it? “A far, far better thing I do, a far, far better death I go to,” or whatever the quote is. Victorian sentimental rubbish.”

He prowled over to stand only inches away from her. “Of course you wouldn’t mind if we both vanished, would you, Slayer? Solve a lot of your problems, wouldn’t it? No nasty little secrets would slip out if I ceased to exist, right?”

William looked up sharply and took a swift, impulsive step forward, his hands suddenly clenching into fists. “Sir, I fear your behaviour and words to a lady are unacceptable. I must ask you to make Miss Summers a full apology or else – ” 

Buffy flung herself between them again, only to aware that if they both used their identical strength against her, she would find it more than difficult to control them. And thrust aside one errant erotic thought that blazed through her brain, a picture of the three of them in one bed - which she knew she would never, ever reveal to another living soul!

“Spike! William! ” But before she could say more, there was a screaming and crashing from above their heads. Someone – or something – was attacking the Magic Box!

To be continued


	14. "Did you Scream?”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everyone fights, some are losers, some win and Buffy makes her feelings clear.

Chp 14: “Did you Scream?”

Spike reacted first to the sound of a fight above them. He flung himself up the stairs and cannoned through the door with Buffy and William at his heels. The shop was full of fighting, struggling shapes. Buffy picked out Xander lying on the floor, trying to hold off two demons with a chair and Anya and Willow backing up the staircase to the top section of the shop, throwing priceless books at the vamps trying to reach them.

She hurled herself into action, aware, as she always was, of Spike fighting behind her, automatically watching her back, letting her control the battle, listening to her shouted commands. William, she noticed, was in game face, standing across Xander’s groaning body, but concentrating on the demons. He was leaving the vampires to her and Spike.

Buffy vaulted across the counter, grabbed a vampire round the waist as he reached for Willow and threw him at Spike, who dispatched him by twisting his head back to front.

“Behind you, Slayer!” Spike yelled suddenly and Buffy spun and ducked as a sword swung through the air. “Get him, William!” Spike roared and his double dived full length through the air and cannoned into the demon, his fangs bared and bloody.

Buffy winced at the spurting gore, then realised it had all gone quiet. The last couple of demons had vanished out of the shop door that was hanging from one hinge, obviously the way they had broken into the Magic Box. “Willow! Xander? Anya? Are you OK?”

Xander picked himself up off the floor, shaking off William’s help. Clutching his head, he staggered across to the wooden staircase where Anya and Willow were sitting and collapsed between them. “I’ll live, Slayer. But not sure if I’ll ever play the piano again.”

William turned an interested face in his direction, “Mr Harris, I had no idea you performed on the pianoforte. I, too, am - ”

“That was a joke!” Spike spat angrily. “The boy’s never touched a piano in his life.”

“Oh!” William shimmered back into human face and stared, puzzled, at his double who was scowling at Buffy.

“Who were they, Slayer? The Master’s minions?”

Buffy rolled a demon over with her foot. It had the usual ugly, contorted face but there was nothing to mark it in any other way. “Well, I’m not at total war with anyone else at present, so I reckon that’s a good guess. This was probably just a probing attack to see how strong we are.”

“Well, they’d have got a nasty shock to see we had two Spikes on our side,” Willow said cheerfully, mopping the blood off Xander’s forehead.

Buffy prowled across to the door and peered out. There was no one around. As was often the way in Sunnydale, if trouble started, the ordinary population vanished off the streets. But heavy clouds lay across the sky and the air was thick and gloomy. She glanced at her watch and winced. It was late afternoon and that meant Dawn would be back from school at any moment. “Xander, are you up to meeting Dawnie and taking her home? I don’t want her involved. She’s an easy target for The Master to use against me.”

“I know I’m not a great fighter, Buff, but I can still – ” Xander was protesting, then saw the expression on her face and sighed, getting to his feet. “Do you want me to tell her what’s going on? She isn’t stupid, Buff. She’ll guess. And where do I take her? Revello won’t be safe.”

Buffy bit her lip. She could just imagine her sister’s reaction, but she’d rather have a furious Dawn than a dead one. 

“My crypt,” Spike said suddenly. “You’ll be safe there. Let’s face it, The Master isn’t going to attack his great great great grandchild’s home!”

Xander tottered away, wincing at every step. Anya began to clear up the wreckage in the shop, writing down every breakage in a book with the cost beside it and moaning gently until she remembered insurance policies and brightened up enough to ask Willow for help. The demon bodies were dragged out of sight, down into the basement. Buffy knew they would be cast into the sewers where the rats would eventually get them. She picked up a chair, turned it the right way up and sat down with a sigh. Spike flung himself to the floor beside her and William crouched in front of them. It was so weird, she thought, like being in one of those odd fairground displays where the mirrors show you reflected hundreds of times over.

“OK, Slayer, what’s next on our task list?” Spike’s gaze was still bleak and angry. “The Master obviously knows where we are, and I imagine the vamps that got away will have told him by now that William’s here as well.”

“We were always taught at school that the best way of defeating an enemy is to attack him,” William put in eagerly. He’d enjoyed the fight, although he’d found it hard to kill another vampire. The demons, though, had been fun. 

Spike gazed at him, his lip curling. “Bloody hell, you obviously haven’t taken in the vital point of this Charm that the Slayer has been going on about. If she kills the Master, even with our help, then all his clan’s descendants, all the Aurelians die – which includes her ex-lover, Angel, myself, countless others we’ve sired over the centuries who’ve sired others themselves and – last and very least – you!”

William frowned and a shiver ran across Buffy’s skin. When he stopped being sweet and endearing, he seemed so like Spike. “But I’m not an Aurelian,” he said slowly.

Buffy stared at him. “What?”

Willow and Anya stopped their clearing up and joined the group. “William, you are an Aurelian,” Willow said patiently. “I know it’s hard to accept. I know only days ago you were back home in London and it wasn’t even 1900, but – ”

“Exactly!” William said calmly and Spike drew in the breath he didn’t need as he realised what his double was saying.

“Hey, I’m just confused Slayer girl here,” Buffy said. “Someone explainy, please!”

“I haven’t been turned yet,” William said softly. “I may well be in this vampire body, but I, me, the person I am – I do not know how to word it in a clearer fashion - I am not William the Bloody.”

“You mean – ”

“He means the man inside my body hasn’t been to a certain soddin’ party, he hasn’t bumped into Liam, Darla and Dru. He hasn’t been bitten. He’s not an Aurelian.” Spike smiled in reluctant admiration. He didn’t remember having that many brains when he was William, but maybe he had! Angel had always made him feel like the village idiot, the one who had to be taught how to be a vampire, the rules and regulations – and punished him when he’d defiantly broken them. Somewhere along the years, he’d come to believe William had been a soft, stupid man. Now he was wondering if he’d been wrong.

“So, if we kill The Master, I won’t die,” William said softly.

“But I will!“ Spike said flatly. “I couldn’t be more Aurelian if I tried. And there’s still Mr Poncy Hair up in L.A. He’d vanish in a puff of dust, too. Be sad about that, would you, Slayer?”

“I don’t want either of you to die,” Buffy said flatly, refusing to be drawn into some jealousy driven spat. “Willow, surely there has to be some way round this part of the Thrall?”

The redhead bit her lip and dragged the little black book out from where she’d hidden it under the counter when the Master’s minions had attacked the shop. She turned the parchment pages over slowly, hunting for the right section. Anya peeked over her shoulder and made noises of appreciation when the page with the pictures came into view.

“Goodness, Buffy, is that what you were supposed to do with William? I think it’s probably a good idea that you sent Xander away. He still has these ridiculous notions of chivalry where you’re concerned, and – well, doing THAT – certainly not chivalrous!”

Buffy felt Spike tense; his head turned slowly and she hoped to God he couldn’t see the little explicit diagrams of a vampire and a slayer having sex. What he was imagining had happened was bad enough. But then what right did he have to feel jealous? They weren’t a couple, they weren’t – heaven forbid! – engaged. 

“Perhaps I can help with the Latin translation,” William said. “It only seems like a few days ago that I was translating some verses by Cicero for the Reverend Ingram and - ”

“It was only a few days ago!” Spike muttered and watched as Willow and William bent over the book, feverishly writing down words, then muttering and crossing them out, while Anya made unhelpful comments in the background.

Buffy straddled her chair and stared down at Spike as he sprawled on the floor. This was the first chance she’d had to speak to him on his own. “Do you – do you remember anything after the demon burnt you?”

Spike shrugged. “No, pet. Loads of friggin’ pain, thought I was going to die, then – bam! — here I was back in the Magic Shop, having lost days out of my unlife to find my girl has been shagging someone who looks just like me.”

“I’m not your girl,” she replied automatically, wishing the hot colour wouldn’t flood up into her cheeks in this juvenile fashion. “And William – he is you, Spike!”

The platinum head turned towards her; the eyes hard. “No, he isn’t, pet. I think we’ve already established that. He’s the man I was, borrowing my body.”

Buffy ran her fingers over the wooden chair back, feeling the rough splinters digging into her skin. “It was just – he was – he is you, Spike! OK, I knew it was William, but it was still your body, your voice. I wanted – ”

“You wanted a good shag, luv, that’s obvious.” Spike obviously wasn’t prepared to forgive and forget. “Hope it lived up to expectations, but then remembering what an inept fool I was before I was turned, I can only imagine that you were doing all the work! So what was it like, Slayer? I suppose his prick is as big as mine? Well, it would have to be, wouldn‘t it. Same body. But let’s face it, we all know it isn’t the size but what you do with it! Or that’s what you girls always tell us. Did you get off OK? Did you scream for him like you do for me? Did you beg him to make you come, over and over again? ”

“Stop it!” Buffy hissed angrily. “Just – stop it! You can’t lecture me about sleeping with doubles. You had that awful Buffybot thing living in your crypt for weeks! What were you doing with her? As if I didn’t know. Pretending it was me!”

“That’s different.”

“No. Yes. Oh, geez, Spike, I can’t deal with this right now. In fact, hey, there’s nothing to deal with. I slept with William – either get over it or don’t. It happened. I thought you were dead, then you weren’t. OK, it was William, but he’s you, Spike. You’re both parts of the same person.”

She jumped up and strode across to peer out of the door into the street again. She didn’t think The Master would actually stroll down the sidewalk to meet her, but she couldn’t sit there arguing with Spike any more. Her thoughts were all jumbled up inside her head and she desperately wanted to hit something – or someone, preferably Spike. OK, perhaps having sex with William had been wrong – but god, how enjoyable, a voice inside her head whispered – but he hadn’t been a stranger. He’d been a Spike she’d never had the chance to meet, a young, innocent Spike, untouched by Dru, Angel and Darla. And she’d never be able to find the words to explain to the vampire that she loved that part of him as much as the tough, snarky street-fighter she’d known all these years.

Love! There was that word again, the one she’d whispered to him days ago in the little lakeside hut. At least he didn’t remember that moment of weakness. She could just imagine how triumphant he’d be if he did.

“Buffy!” Willow’s voice sounded triumphant. “I think we might have found something.” 

She and William were looking pleased with themselves. “Look, this line here, you can translate it in several different ways. The root of this Latin verb — ”

“Will, just tell me what it says. Please!”

“OK, right. Well, it’s talking about defeating The Master. When the Thrall happens and he rises, then the Slayer has to act upon the Demon Charm. I thought the wording meant you had to kill him, but you could read this, well, William and me think you could read this – ”

“Bloody Hell!”

Willow shot Spike an anxious glance. “It says, “Makes him pass away. Send him forth out of this world.”

Buffy frowned. “OK, that sounds like killing him to me.”

Anya pursed her lips. “That’s because you’re the Slayer,” she put in. “Everything you do has killing as the end result. I find it most disagreeable. To any sensible demon those words would mean you had to send The Master into another dimension altogether. And he doesn’t have to be dead for you to do that!”

To be continued.


	15. Not your girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which William remembers his mother, so does Spike and the boys become partners in crime.

Chapter 15: Not your Girl

“A demon’s fire changes all,  
The Old Returns,  
Love Alone can break the thrall,  
Passion Burns,  
Past and present merged must be  
By Love, desire and need times three”

 

William and Spike strode down the darkened street, their strides matching. Spike’s coat billowed behind him but apart from that, in jeans, boots and T-shirts they looked identical. 

“I am still unclear as to why you needed me to accompany you on this marketing expedition,” William said.

Spike grunted. If he were honest, he would say it was because he didn’t want to leave his other half anywhere near Buffy. He knew only too well what they’d done and he was buggered if they were going to do it again. But there was also a tiny flicker of curiosity in his mind; he wanted to spend some time with William. However weird it seemed, this was him, the him that had once been. It was hard to remember being this inoffensive, but it was truth. 

“Miss Willow seemed to have no doubts as to what she needed to make this spell work,” William commented as they reached the brightly lit shopping mall. 

Several people turned and stared at them, but the cold glare from Spike’s eyes deterred them from speaking.

“Oh the witch is as clever as a cart load of monkeys when it comes to the mojo side,” Spike conceded. “She used just to dabble, now it’s a full time thing. She’s been trying to give it up, but you saw her just now – she couldn’t wait to get together with demon girl to find the right spell to chuck the Master through some nasty portal into an even nastier world than this.”

William pulled a sheet of paper out of his pocket. “The list is very detailed,” he said doubtfully. “I must admit to a little astonishment that there are not enough magical ingredients in the magic shop itself.”

Spike shrugged, collapsed onto a bench and lit a cigarette, blowing the smoke angrily against a No Smoking sign. “She wants fresh, I suppose. Let’s look – yes, fresh basil, two goose eggs, blimey, six artichoke hearts – what’s she making, a spell or soup?”

“She is Buffy’s great friend,” William said slowly. “But she doesn’t know that you – that I – that we – ”

“Have sex with the Slayer! No, she doesn’t. Spends too much time worrying about herself. They all do. No one worries about my girl.”

“Your girl?” William tensed.

Spike ground the cigarette under his boot. “Well, she certainly isn‘t yours, Bill old chum! So you can get that idea out of your head. Soon as we get this bloody Master business finished with, you’ll have to go.”

William’s blue eyes hardened and for a second Spike realised that this was what looking in a mirror would be like – something he hadn’t done for a very long time, of course. “You think you can kill me?”

Spike shrugged with a century’s certainty of death and destruction. “Don’t think – know.”

“I have the same skills as you – the body is the same.”

“But not the mind that drives it,” Spike said dryly. 

William smiled suddenly, his face alight with a charm that made a passing girl stop, turn and almost, but luckily not quite, come back to flirt with the blond twins sitting on the bench. “If you kill me, you will also vanish because I will no longer be here, so cannot be turned and thus become you.”

Spike stared at him for a moment, then wondered if his head was going to burst open and send his brains exploding across the mall floor in little grey spitballs. “Look, let’s just get the rotten ingredients and get the hell back to the Magic Shop. We’ll worry about what happens afterwards – afterwards.”

William sighed. He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help liking this man he’d become. There was a part of him that envied the bravery, the spit-in-the-eye-of-the-world attitude that Spike had in abundance. He wondered what dear Cecily would think if she could meet him now? The soft muscles of his arms hardened into steel, the poet’s hands thinner, deadlier and oh so talented in the ways of bringing a woman to the very doors of paradise itself. 

He lifted his fingers to his nose and sniffed silently. The aroma he sought was still there. Then he caught Spike’s glare and pretended to scratch his chin. He knew that Buffy loved Spike and that Spike loved Buffy. And he was also aware that this was a love he would one day know himself. It was all very confusing because at the moment his heart belonged to Cecily. 

Would Cecily love Spike? He recalled exactly what Buffy had taught him over the last few days and shifted uneasily on the bench. How could he possibly return and expect Cecily to do – well, some of those things that no nice young lady would ever do? But, a little voice whispered in his head, perhaps she’d enjoy doing them, just like Buffy does. 

He sighed. He knew instinctively that he would never make love with Buffy Summers again. He knew, too, that somehow he would be sent back to his own time. For all he’d told Buffy he didn’t want to, it wasn’t logical to pretend he wouldn’t. Because here was Spike, existing in this world. So he would go back and be turned by Dru and become –

“A sapphire! Where the hell does Willow think we’re going to get a sodding sapphire!” Spike had been buying things and now he was back, turning over the shopping list and reading the last ingredient scribbled on the back.

William jerked his mind back from a scenario of pushing Cecily down on the floor of the summer-house, lifting her skirt, pulling down her ruffled pantalettes and – 

“What?”

“How much dosh do you have on you?”

“Dosh?”

“Money. Cash. Coin of the realm, although dollars would be better.”

William shrugged. “None at all. Oh, yes, there is this strange coin in my trousers.” And he pulled out a quarter.

Spike flicked it away from him and pocketed it. “I wondered where that had gone! Thanks, mate. But it won’t buy us a sapphire. I’ve got about ten dollars left and that’s it.”

“So we cannot purchase the jewel? Buffy and Miss Willow will be distressed.”

Spike lit another cigarette and offered the packet to William, who shook his head. “I have once smoked a cigar, but mother doesn’t approve of tobacco.” Then their eyes met and both vampires burst out laughing. “Have you ever regretted what happens to us?” William asked at last. 

Spike shook his head. “Never, not for a single moment. You won’t either when it happens,” he said. “Be honest and think about your life – the boredom, the petty, stupid people you know. You’ll be offered – everything. And you’ll take it, willingly.”

William watched as Spike flicked the lighter and stared round the mall at the late night shoppers, a wistful, hungry expression on his face. Suddenly a thought occurred to him. “What happens to Mother? I am not green enough not to realise that she died a long time ago, but I do hope I took care of her in her old age. I plan to buy a cottage in the country for her when I have made my fortune. She is so delicate – well, you know that, of course – I feel the country air will be so much better for her than the damp and smog in London during the winter.”

Spike made a fuss of stubbing out his cigarette. How could he possibly tell William what he would do to their mother? The pain that would cause was unthinkable. If he’d been Angelus, then yes, he’d have done it in a trice, with all the intimate details. But then he’d never been so much for the mental torture bit. He’d preferred the real type, with ropes and knives and terror.

“Mother ended her life just as she would have wished,” he said shortly. “Now, let’s find this friggin’ sapphire and get back to the Magic Box.”

“But we’ve no money – ”

Spike sighed. “Forget money, Bill. We’ll nick a ring from that jewellers over there. I’ll grab it, you hold the door open, then run like hell!”

Two hours later, a silent circle of people sat on the floor of the Magic Box. The shop was dark, lit only by candles that Anya had arranged on every surface. Willow had built a two foot high pyramid of white glass spheres and balanced on the top was a glass dish holding the concoction she and Anya had spent the evening preparing.

Buffy peered at the swirling green mixture that smelt of rotten eggs. “Phewww, Will, are you sure this will send The Master into another dimension? What if he just – doesn’t go.”

Willow shook her head. “This is the most powerful spell I can find, Buffy. I’ve scraped up a lot of soil from where his bones were scattered when you pulverised him. There must be some of him in there. You only need an atom or two for the spell to work. ”

“So what do we do?”

“As the demon charm says, we need the three of you - Spike, William and you. Hold hands around the pyramid. William has the words written down in Mayan - and don’t ask me why it’s in Mayan, lots of spells just are. He’ll say them, then at the end, you throw the sapphire into the mixture, the glass globes turn black and wherever The Master is, he’ll go through a portal into the next dimension. I’ve no idea which – but it gets him out of this world, that’s the important thing.”

Buffy nodded and took the tiny blue stone from Anya’s reluctant hand.

“It’s very small,” the ex-demon girl said disparagingly. “Couldn’t you have stolen something bigger, Spike?”

“You’re bloody lucky to get that one,” the vampire replied. “We almost got caught by the security guards. I told William to hold the door open, but I didn’t mean for him to stop and let another customer out first! Idiot!”

William shrugged. He’d realised earlier on that whatever Spike said, it didn’t hurt him. The connection he felt for his double was far too deep to be touched by the vampire’s sarcasm. They were two parts of a whole and as such couldn’t hurt each other in any way.

“Right, let’s do it!” Buffy said. “Before The Master decides to pay us a visit himself.”

She reached out a hand and felt Spike’s fingers tighten around hers. She glanced at him but he refused to meet her gaze and she shivered. He was still angry with her, she knew that. But the touch of his skin burnt hers with a cold fire. She slid her other hand into William’s palm which felt the same, but left no impression on her nerves. Two identical men, but one she loved and one she didn’t. And she had no idea why.

William had started chanting the spell, the green mixture swirled in its dish, sending out a vile smell. The candles guttered in a breeze that sprang up and scurried through the shop.

Spike’s fingers tightened on hers and she could see his other hand clasping William’s, their fingers entwined, linked. What had the demon charm said, ‘love, desire and need times three’. And here they were, all three of them, determined to rid the world of The Master once and for all.

As William stopped talking in the strange, South American language he seemed to say so effortlessly, she let go of his hand and flung the tiny blue stone into the mixture. The breeze turned into a wind, the candles went out and for minutes the shop was plunged into darkness. Then there was the scrape of a match and Anya’s face was lit into golden brilliance as she touched the flame to a candle.

Buffy stared at the glass globes on the floor in front of her. Then blinked and stared again. They were still white. Not a single one had turned black.

tbc


	16. The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which William and Spike play cards, Buffy tells Willow the truth and Spike decodes the charm.

“A demon’s fire changes all,  
The old returns.  
Love alone can break the thrall,  
Passion burns.  
Past and present merged must be,  
By love, desire and need times three.“

 

A little while later, Willow said, “I don’t understand, Buffy. It should have worked.”

“Well, Will, not too big on the whole magicy thingy, but from the color of these glass baubles, not so much!”

Anya sniffed disdainfully. “I said all along that the sapphire was too small. I mean, if Spike and William were going to steal jewellery, they might as well have stolen something worthwhile. It was like a pin head.”

Willow glared at the ex-demon. “It doesn’t say anywhere in the spell how big a sapphire you need. It just says sapphire.”

“All I’m saying is – ”

”Right! Whatever! It didn’t work. Willow, do you think a bigger sparkly would help – honestly?”

The witch shook her head. “No, Buffy, I really don’t, because hey, it didn’t even feel as if it was almost working and then failing at the last minute. You know, like when you make a cake and open the oven door and it all goes flat. All we got was that strong wind, which is the very first part of the spell, and then - nothing.”

“So the Master is still out there somewhere, doing Mastery sorts of things and planning my death - again! You’d think he’d get tired of doing it.” Buffy flung herself down in a chair and stared up at the ceiling. The hours were ticking past and they were no closer to ridding the world of Mr Wrinkly Skull.

“Buffy – ” Willow came close and knelt by the side of the chair. Anya was busily turning the pages of yet another book, hunting for another vanquishing spell, but Willow was certain they had used the strongest one there was.

“She’s not here! She emigrated to Australia. She’s taken the day off and gone shopping,” Buffy groaned.

“This may mean you have no choice but to kill The Master in the old-fashioned way.”

A pair of hard green eyes turned in her direction. “You mean kill him and allow Spike to die as well?”

“And Angel – all Aurealians,” Willow murmured, wondering why her friend never mentioned her first lover as often as she mentioned Spike. “And I know that’s not good for you, killing Angel, not good at all, but you can’t just let The Master run riot on earth for ever more. Not if there’s a chance of getting rid.”

Buffy sat in silence. All the replies she wanted to make seemed wrong inside her head. Words such as ‘OK, no problem. Yes, saving the world is what I do, isn’t it? I killed Angel once – I can kill the man I love again.’ But this time she knew with a cold certainty that this time she wouldn’t be talking about Angel, she would be talking about Spike.

She glanced down at Willow’s face where her friend knelt by the side of her chair. The redhead looked worried but there was that odd expression deep in her eyes that she always had when speaking about Angel and the other vamps. An expression that had never been there when she’d been with Oz. Then she’d known only too well what it was like to be in love with someone outside the norm. Even now when she and Tara – Buffy’s thoughts skidded against a dead end. Why wouldn’t Willow still feel the same, because, hey, she and Tara were still outsiders even in this modern world with its modern, liberated views.

“Buffy?”

“I’m sorry, Will. I’m not – ” she took a deep breath – “I’m not going to risk losing Spike!” There – it was said. She could see the stunned expression of disbelief cross the witch’s face, then the dawning of understanding – and a sort of horror.

“Buffy, you can’t mean…you don’t mean…you and Spike? Or – ” her voice suddenly changed to hopeful – “or do you mean you and William?”

Buffy jumped up. “We’ll talk about it later, Will. I’m sorry, I should have said something earlier, but I just couldn’t – I’m still not sure exactly what I do feel. Except that – I care about him. I know you and Xander and Giles won’t understand and oh God, how do I tell Dawnie, but just now, the most important thing is to find me a way to kill The Master without killing him, if you see what I mean.”

Willow bit back the stream of questions that trembled in her throat. Although, somehow, she knew what the answer to the most important one was going to be. Buffy and Spike! She should have seen it much earlier, of course; her friend had always liked bad boys. But Angel had had a soul. Spike was just - oh god, what was Xander going to say when he heard?

“I’ll…I’ll go and help Anya with the research. There are lots of books we haven’t read yet. Perhaps there’s a bigger banishing spell somewhere. Or hey, perhaps we could phone Giles. He might know of one.”

Buffy frowned. “As a last resort, OK. He’ll be all twittery and tweedery and want to fly over and take charge. You know how he feels about me and The Master.”

Willow nodded, but also knew how Giles felt about Buffy and her relationships with vampires. She didn’t want to imagine what he would say when he knew his Slayer was having feelings for Spike? But perhaps they were just physical sorts of feelings, she reasoned, because jeez, she could feel like that too, so no problem with understanding that, but nothing more. Surely nothing more.

“What are the guys doing?” Buffy asked.

Willow bit her lip, glad of the change of subject. “They’re down in the basement, playing cards….”

Buffy made a noise that was almost a snort.” Who was that Roman guy we learnt about? Nemo? No, Nero! Didn’t he play the violin while Rome burnt down? Oh well, they’re out of harm’s way, I suppose. And they can’t do much damage down there. Thank God for that. And at least they seem to be getting on OK. I thought Spike was going to snap William’s neck when he appeared, which wouldn’t have helped at all.”

Willow nodded. “Big not helping, but Spike doesn’t seem too happy with you, Buff. He glares at you all the time.”

Buffy felt the color flooding up her neck into her face. She knew exactly why Spike was angry with her and it had everything to do with William and that spooky ability vamps had of being able to smell each other’s presence, even days later. She took a deep breath. Whatever was going to happen, one thing was very clear. She had to tell Spike that Willow knew about them. That she had, at last, been brave enough to reveal her feelings to her closest friend. And, even more importantly, that she would fight tooth and nail to stop him from dying. 

…

“What are the girls doing?” William asked, shuffling the cards.

Spike shrugged and continued prowling around the basement, peering behind boxes and moving jars of goods aside to see what had been hidden behind them. “Pulling the spell to pieces, pulling us to pieces, making another plan, painting their nails? Who the bloody hell knows! The Slayer’ll tell us when she’s ready. God, wish there was some beer down here. I can’t believe old Rupert didn’t have a secret stash somewhere.”

“This is the gentleman, Rupert Giles, of whom you speak? Miss Buffy’s – ”

”They call him a Watcher.”

William dealt a hand of patience on the table in front of him. He stared down at the cards – they were made from some shiny substance and the pictures were subtly different from the ones he was used to. “And he watches -?”

“He used to watch out for his Slayer, Buffy Summers. Every Slayer has a Watcher. He plans what she’ll do, trains her, researches who the demons are, generally makes a nuisance of himself and finally vanishes back into the woodwork when his Slayer gets the chop.”

“But this Watcher – ”

“Rupert Giles, Oxford man, but he dropped out and became a Watcher. Never got his degree. I think he was taking History.”

William frowned. “We would never have countenanced such behaviour at Cambridge!”

Spike found himself nodding in agreement and cursed silently. William was a bad influence. He could almost feel himself becoming more and more like his former pansy self.

“Do you think you are going to die?” William said suddenly.

“What? Not bloody likely, mate!”

“But if the spell has not worked, then Miss Buffy still has to destroy The Master. And if she kills him, then you die. Isn’t that correct?”

Spike flung himself down in the chair opposite his earlier self. “Stop talking about dying and deal the cards. Five each. I’ll teach you how to play poker. We’ve no kittens to use as chips, but you’ll get the hang of it soon enough. I did.”

William looked at him, his blue eyes suddenly shrewd. “You do not wish to talk of dying, although you are already dead?”

Spike picked up his cards and pretended to study them. Was he worried about dying? No. He’d seen too much death over the years to fear it. It would be quick and then – well, if he was heading for hell, he was certain to meet up with loads of old mates.

“Doesn’t matter to me. At least I’ve had all the fun with Dru and Peaches and granny Dru.”

“And your years with the Slayer?” William said gently. It was so odd, he thought. This man in front of him wasn’t him, and yet he knew exactly what he was thinking and feeling. “You are wondering if she will betray you in the end,” he said quietly. “Because she loves you – ”

“She what!” The cards exploded out of Spike’s hands and cascaded onto the floor.

William calmly dealt him another five cards. “I know she loves you. Just as I love Cecily. It was the reason she thought the Charm would never work when we thought it was just a case of us having sex three times to bring you back into this body and vanquish me back to my own time. Do you not remember the last line - Love, Desire and Need times three.”

Spike stared into his own eyes and then realised with an odd little shudder that his had never looked that gentle, that compassionate for a very, very long time.

“Spike – can I talk to you!”

He jumped as Buffy’s voice came from the basement steps. “Sure, Slayer. Come to tell us that the big decision’s been made? That I’m about to head for the big dusting event of the year?”

Buffy glared at him. He was being so impossible! “I thought I could just explain – well, things, to you. Before we go any further.” She took a deep breath. “Please.”

Spike opened his mouth to snark back at her, then realised that William’s hand was cupping the back of his neck. The chill of his fingers met the chill of Spike’s skin and the result was oddly like warmth.

Spike swayed for a second as the enormity of William’s presence swept over him. Here wasn’t an enemy or a rival. Here was instant support, someone entirely on his side. Himself as he had been before Dru. And the part of him that was William responded. He reached up and covered the hand with his own, then walked across to Buffy, allowing the anger to die down. 

“I thought you’d better know,” she said stiffly. “I’ve just told Willow about us.”

“Bloody hell! What did you want to do that for?” The words were out before he could stop them and if he’d had a stake handy, he’d have used it on himself as he watched the hurt and rejection leap into her eyes.

“Fool!” he heard William mutter and, for once, was in complete agreement.

“I didn’t mean – Buffy – listen – look at me. No! Look at me properly, pet. I just meant, why now, with all this happening? You don’t need that sort of pressure.”

“I thought perhaps you’d changed your mind,” she whispered, realising that somehow their hands had become tightly linked.

“Yes, and the moon’s made of green cheese,” he said, aware that he had a smile spreading across his face that he was unable to stop.

“Afterwards – ” she started to say.

“Yes, afterwards,” he replied and their eyes clashed, promising everything.

“Willow wants me to go and kill The Master. But I can’t, Spike. I can’t let you die.”

William walked across the room and stood next to Spike. He was smiling, too. He could feel the great roaring emotion of his own joy in the body that would one day be his.

Buffy laughed. “I’ll never get over seeing the two of you standing together,” she said. “The good and the bad.”

Spike stared at her for a long second. “What did you say?”

“You know – it’s a part of that Clint Eastwood film title, The Good, the Bad and the Ugly. And whatever I call you two, I can’t call either of you Ugly!”

Spike shook his head and glanced at William. “The good, the bad – oh bollocks, that’s it, Slayer. We were all wrong.”

“That’s what?” 

“You’ve got the Good – William. The Bad – I suppose that’s me. But we’ve one missing. Mr Ugly.”

He heard Willow gasp before he saw her standing on the steps above them. “Love, Desire and Need times Three. The three people needed for the spell. That’s why it wouldn’t work, Buffy.”

The Slayer shook her head. “I know I’m not the world‘s brightest button, but what the heck are you all talking about?”

Willow ran down the final steps. “Spike’s right. We were wrong. It was never about you, Buffy. William is Spike before he was turned. Spike is himself, a mixture of demon and William. But there has to be another one. The pure demon who took over William’s body when he was turned. And we’ve got to bring him forth!”

To be continued.


	17. Our Other Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Xander, Spike, Buffy, Dawn and William all speak their minds!

Chp 17 Our other brother

 

“A demon’s fire changes all,  
The Old Returns,  
Love Alone can break the Thrall,  
Passion Burns,  
Past and present merged must be  
By Love, desire and need times three”

 

Xander’s chair thumped back down onto four legs from where he’d had it tilted back while Buffy explained what had been happening. “OK, sitting right here, listening, realising I’ve never been the brightest button in the Sunnydale box, but let me get one thing clear in my mind – ” He stared at Spike and William and shuddered. “You want to zap Spike again to bring out the pure demon inside him?”

“I think it’s the only way we’re going to defeat the Master, send him into another dimension and fulfil the charm. You remember, ‘love, desire and need – ”

“ – times three! Hey Will, yes, I can count. Not as well as you, perhaps, but hey, up to three I can do. Even ten if I use fingers and thumbs.”

Dawn was sitting curled up on the sofa. She’d stared in bewilderment at William and Spike when they came back to the house, her face lighting up at the sight of Spike, but since then she’d been unusually quiet. Spike had glanced at her several times, and once or twice looked as if he was going to speak to her, but hadn’t.

Buffy sighed at Xander’s tone. She’d known she was going to have problems with him over this. Not that that was going to stop her, but it would be so much easier if everyone was on board.

“ So perhaps I missed the memo – the newspaper article – the TV show - when we were told that the demon inside a vampire is really a nice fuzzy pink bunny with big ears who only eats chocolate instead of a cold-blooded, evil thing who will kill us all as soon as look at us.”

“Xander!” Anya was freaking out at the thought of a demon rabbit.

William peered at Xander over an old pair of Giles’ spectacles that Buffy had found for him, abandoned in a drawer. She’d noticed the way he was squinting a bit and realised that that particular pair of blue eyes were looking very tired.

“Mr Harris, you seem to have some doubts about our progress in this matter.”

“Doubts? Doubts?” Xander shrugged in despair. “Oh no. Not at all. We’ll just shake the demon’s hand when he arrives and explain exactly what we need him to do. I’m sure he’ll just stand there, nice and peaceful like, and do what we ask without arguing. I mean, demon, pure evil, why shouldn’t he?”

“Buffy, he’s right about that. We can’t just let the demon appear without containing it in some way,” Willow chimed in.

“Then here’s a thought – don’t let the demon appear in the first place!”

“Xander – we’ve got to.” Buffy looked grim. “I’m not sacrificing Spike by killing the Master now unless I have to. We can still do this dimension thingy if we get the demon to make up the threesome.”

“What happens afterwards?” It was Dawn’s voice, very small, very tight, coming from the depth of the sofa. “I mean, good, we get rid of the Master, but we’re still left with three guys, Spike, William and Demon. What happens then?”

Buffy bit her lip. “I don’t know, Dawn. I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“I have to go back.” William sounded exhausted and Buffy glanced at him sharply, wondering if existing in another body, years away from his own time was somehow diminishing his energy.

“You could stay.” Dawn sat up straighter, her face suddenly determined. “You like it here, don’t you. You get on with Spike. You could share his crypt.”

Two pairs of very blue eyes immediately showed the same horrified expression. Spike started to speak, but William put out his hand and for once the vampire fell silent. “That’s a – nice – idea, Dawn. Yes, I do enjoy being here with you all. But, don’t you see – ”

“He has to go back!” Spike couldn’t contain himself any longer.

“Why? Just because Buffy likes him as well as you?” Dawn shot the question at him and Buffy realised with a start that her little sister wasn’t nearly as sweet and innocent as she’d once believed. She was growing up – fast!

Spike glared round and Buffy winced at the expression on his face. She sighed inside her head. They were going to have ‘the talk’ soon. Although why she had to apologise to Spike for sleeping with William when they were the same person – well, sort of – was beyond her.

“No, William and Buffy can have the love affair of the century if they want to,” he said. “But it won’t solve the problem. William has to go back, otherwise – ”

“Otherwise Spike can’t be here now,” William finished for him. “I have to return to meet the people who turn me into a vampire.”

“Angel, Darla and Dru,” Willow said. 

Spike laughed, but it wasn’t a pleasant sound. “Perhaps you’ll walk down another road and none of this will bloody well happen. Now you know what lies ahead, I suppose you can change it.”

Buffy glanced across at Willow. “Is that true, Will?”

The witch shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. I don’t imagine William will remember any of this when he gets back inside his body again. But we know he was turned, because Spike is here.”

“My head hurts thinking about it,” Buffy moaned. “So, we’ll deal with all that once we’ve sent the Master on his way.”

“Buffy!” Xander stood up, appalled written over every inch of his body. “Please listen to me. Don’t do this.”

“Xander, I am listening and hey, input always good, but it’s my decision.” And when wasn’t it her final decision when the big bad choices had to be made? she thought grimly. When did she ever get the chance to say, “Hey, let’s do what you suggest this time.”? And would she want to?

“We’ll need some sort of cage,” Spike said. “Something me and ‘guess who’s coming to dinner’ can’t get out of quickly.”

“Or at all.” Anya added brightly.

“Or at all,” Spike agreed quietly.

“Xander?” Buffy turned to him. “Can you rig up something downstairs? Please.”

Xander stood, staring at her, for a long while. Then he shrugged. “OK. Come on, Dawnie, you can give me a hand.”

“Oh, can I use the power drill?”

“No!”

Their voices faded as they clattered away down the stairs. 

“Will, Anya, I need you to double check everything there is to know about the Ferry-Gemmy stick thing. We saw what happened when Toth used it and we got Spike back when we used it on William. I have to be sure that I can get the demon out of Spike.”

“Ferula-Gemina,” Willow said absentmindedly. “OK, come on, Anya. You take the books, I’ll dive into the Internet.”

William, who’d been leaning quietly against the door, straightened up. He glanced at Spike, then at Buffy, sensing the tension between them. “I’ll assist if I may, Miss Willow,” he said cheerfully. “You never know, my knowledge of Latin and Ancient Greek may be useful.”

The room seemed very quiet when they’d gone. Buffy opened the door onto the dark yard and walked outside. She sat on the top step and waited. She refused to ask him to sit with her. But then, she knew she didn’t have to.

“Reckon it’s safe to be out here, Slayer?” he said, throwing himself down beside her, but, she noticed with a wince, making sure he didn’t actually touch her. “Can’t imagine the Master will be standing around drinking tea and discussing the weather with his mates.”

“A little while before another attack. He’ll go to the Magic Box first, then work out that we’re here. Thirty minutes or so to make big speeches to his followers, then he’ll hit us.”

“So by then we need to get Demon Boy out of me and in the mood to help. That’ll be a fun conversation.”

Buffy took a deep breath. Everyone was taking it for granted that they could pull this off. That the demon would appear. But what if they were wrong? What if it all went horribly skewy and she lost Spike. There was so little time but just in case, she had to have told him – “About William!” she blurted out.

“Your lover?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. He’s not my lover. He’s not my anything.”

“If he’s not your lover, why can I smell him – me – no him! – all over you?”

Buffy glared at him. Why the hell was he being so jealous? They weren’t engaged, for heaven’s sake. OK, they were together in lots of ways, but he had no right to think he had some sort of – 

“And don’t pretend you thought William was me. He’d only have to open his mouth for you to know he wasn’t. Oh, wait, maybe you didn’t give him a chance to open his mouth. Too busy shoving your tongue inside it. Or some other part of your anatomy!”

Buffy’s fist was heading for his nose before she could stop it, but his hand was faster and grabbed her fingers before they could smash into his face. She could feel her temper desperate to escape. “Pig! Rotten pig! OK, I admit I knew he wasn’t you. But he was. You, I mean, in a way. William is you. The you before you. I’m fond of him. But that’s all. And anyway, who I have sex with is my business.”

Spike pulled her closer and glared at her, shaking with anger, his eyes a furious navy blue. “So, what’s going to happen when Demon Boy arrives? He’s a sort of me, too. Will you be fond of him as well? Are you going to open your legs for him to welcome him home? Perhaps we can all oblige. All four of us in bed together. Does that tickle your fancy, Slayer?”

Buffy dragged herself away from him and stood up. She was shaken at the pain and bitterness in his voice. She’d known he was upset – she’d sensed that right from the second he’d reappeared, but she’d had no idea just how badly he’d taken her sleeping with William. This hurtful, crude, sarcastic Spike was someone she didn’t know. Or never admitted knowing, a voice inside her head said. 

“You’re sick!” she spat out. “I just wanted to explain. God knows why I bothered if all I’m going to get from you is this jealous crap. Geez, Spike, perhaps I will fancy Demon Boy. He might have better manners than you. Although I’m beginning to think I should just kill the Master and get rid of you once and for all!” And she spun round and marched back inside the house, banging the door behind her.

Spike sat on, hunched up, glaring out at the dark night sky, wishing the Master and his friends would appear so he could kill, destroy, hurt, anything to get rid of the ache inside his chest.

“So, I get turned into a vampire and become a foul-mouthed fool as well. I declare that is something to look forward to!”

Spike groaned as William came out onto the porch. “You heard?”

The second blond vampire sat down where Buffy had just been. “I believe the whole neighbourhood probably heard you both.”

“Sodding Slayer. Bitch! I hate her.”

William stared at his own face, wondering at the pain he saw etched on it so clearly. “But you love Buffy.”

“Of course I bloody love her!” Spike roared. “Why do you think it hurt so much that she slept with you?”

“But you don’t hate me? I was also, er, involved.”

Spike glanced across at him. Odd, that this was what he looked like. Bloody hell, it was weird. He should hate William; he should want to tear out his throat, but he didn’t. He – he found himself smiling – against his will he liked William. OK, the man was a weak, romantic fool, and that was a side of himself that he’d despised, but he was a brave romantic fool and he didn’t blame him for sleeping with the Slayer when he had the chance. “No, I don’t hate you,” he said wearily.

“Miss Summers loves you,” William said and stood up, towering over his future self. “I may not be very wise in such matters because, as you know, my feelings for Cecily are on a far purer level, but I think you would be unwise to throw away such a love.”

Spike stood up, too. He wondered idly if William’s feelings for Cecily would remain pure when if he got back to his own time. He somehow doubted that after his encounters with Buffy that he would see Cecily in the same light. But then he remembered that William wouldn’t remember anything that had happened here. Poor bloke! All that sex and passion and no memory of it remaining.

William frowned. “I came out to tell you that they have finished with the research into the Toth staff. I believe Mr Harris has constructed a cage in the basement and so we are all ready, if you are, to bring forth our other brother.”

Spike looked startled. “Brother?”

William smiled and held out his hand. “Oh yes. Our brother. And one we must protect – as much as he will protect us!”

To be continued


	18. The Loved Ones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which two become three and everyone gets very upset.

Chp 18 The Loved Ones

 

 

“A demon’s fire changes all,  
The Old Returns,  
Love Alone can break the Thrall,  
Passion Burns,  
Past and present merged must be  
By Love, desire and need times three”

 

 

 

Darkness - black - nothing - being crunched, diluted, hurt and imprisoned by a piece of metal in a corner of a mind angered him out of all reason. He’d flailed and struggled but couldn’t escape. It held him in a vice and every time he tried to prove he was still alive, pain, terrible pain hurt the loved one. Now his beloved companion had gone - a blade of silver light had torn them apart and his arms still ached for the one lost.

But he would fight on; never give up because he needed - yearned - wanted his freedom. Wanted to be whole again, not this pathetic mewling thing, shut away, unable to act or control or kill or -

Another blaze of silver light and this time he felt the walls imprisoning him give way. Brilliance surrounded him, hurting, but hurling him forward; out, out, out, bursting free and with a roar he was falling clear….

He was aware of space, but not freedom. He was crouched in a cage; somewhere gloomy. The loved one was close by and – he stretched his senses – to his astonishment he realised that the first loved, the one who had vanished so long ago, was close by, too. And eyes. Lots of eyes were looking at him. He felt his mouth tangle into a snarl and a growl began to cut at his throat. He would kill and kill and kill…

“Spike – are you OK?” Buffy grasped the bars of the cage Xander had built in the basement out of old wood and the pipes left over from the plumbing. Her worried voice cut through the waves of nausea that were swirling round inside the vamp’s head. 

He groaned and rolled over; the force of the dividing rod had thrown him crashing to the ground. He shook his head, smearing a trickle of blood from his nose and stared at the figure crouched next to him. Pale naked flesh, yellow eyes gleaming from under a tangle of curly hair. The face – well it was him, he supposed but as he’d never seen his reflection, he couldn’t be sure. He was happy to believe he looked like William, but this face peering up at him was somehow blurred, contorted with anger and distress.

“I’m fine, Slayer,” he muttered. “Just love being divided up, gutted and thrown about like some bloody toy soldier.” 

“Spike?” It was William, speaking softly. “Be very careful. Don’t frighten our brother.” 

“Me frighten him? Bloody hell. You‘re not the one sitting two feet away from him, mate!”

Suddenly a blanket was pushed through the bars. Spike looked up and nodded at Dawn. Trust Niblet to think of the practicalities of the situation, or perhaps she just didn’t want to look at Demon Boy’s demon bits and pieces. Not that she could see them because he was still crouched over, but – He realised he was rambling in his head, but he felt weird. Sort of swimmy. Ill. Which was ridiculous because vampires never felt ill. Pain, yes, they did pain in a big way. But not ill. Gently he pushed the blanket over the demon’s shoulders.

“Can he speak?” That was Willow, curiosity aching in every tone of her voice.

“Kill!” The sound grated through the basement.

Spike shrugged. “Reckon so, Red.”

“Does he have a name?”

Spike glared at her. “This isn’t a sodding cocktail party! How the hell do I know if he has a name?”

“Kill!” The sound was even angrier, vicious.

“OK, mate. Calm down. Buffy?”

“Yes.”

“Can you get everyone out of here, except you and William? He doesn‘t like being looked at.”

“How do you know what he likes?” said Xander indignantly. “If you think we’re going to leave Buffy alone with the three of you creatures – ”

How did he know? Spike wasn’t sure, but he glanced through the bars to where William was standing and knew he felt the same. Demon boy was freaked out by the audience watching him. And he knew this. Inside his head, in his blood, he knew this. “William?” His tone was almost pleading.

“Miss Buffy, we need to have the basement to ourselves.”

“I’m not leaving.”

“No, Spike wants you to stay. So do I and so does Demon.”

“What?” Her hazel eyes widened as Willow, Dawn and Xander grumbled their way upstairs.

“You have to trust us.” The blue eyes that were so Spike’s but somehow softer, less demanding, urged her to listen to what he was asking.

“OK. What do you want to do?”

William turned to Spike who still hadn’t moved away from Demon’s side. “Out?”

Spike nodded. “He can’t stand being shut in a cage. He can’t think until he’s free. You have to let us release him, Buffy.”

She stared down at the crouching naked figure that looked so like – and shook her head. “No way. Come on, Spike. He’s pure demon. Your demon. Anything we need to do will have to be done inside the cage. I can’t chance him getting away.”

Spike moved to the bars. He needed to convince her, but not with the other two watching. As if he was reading his mind, William walked towards him.

“You come out, Spike. I’ll sit with him.”

Spike hesitated. Could William control Demon? No, if Demon decided to attack, William wouldn’t stand a chance. 

“He won’t hurt me,” William said confidently and untied the ropes Xander had used to hold the two metal doors together.

Spike slid out of the cage as Demon raised his head, teeth bared, a growl of “Kill!” shaking his whole body. William walked slowly inside and crouched down next to the blanket-covered body. Spike held the breath he didn’t need as William tentatively reached out a hand. For a long minute nothing happened, then thin yellowy fingers reached out and twisted in desperation around the white hand that was so similar and touching his naked knee.

Buffy realised she was trembling as Spike’s arm swung round her shoulders and she gave herself up, for the first time in so long, to the comfort of his embrace. “Is he – you – the three of you – are you OK?”

Spike tightened his grip, burying his face in her hair, then realised he was swaying. She pulled back, glancing sharply at him, and her hands grasped his arms, holding him upright. “What‘s the matter?”

“Don’t know, Goldilocks. Feel sort of weak and wobbly.” 

Leaning against her, he let her half carry him across to the other side of the basement. He half fell, half slid onto the pile of old blankets that were stacked in a corner and had proved so useful to Dawn earlier.

Buffy sat down next to him. “Spike! What’s wrong? What have I done?”

With an effort he raised his head – he was so tired, all he wanted to do was sleep and sleep. He felt as weak as a kitten. Kittens! Somewhere in the depths of his brain, he knew kittens meant something important to him. But not to him, to the part of him that was still crouched inside the cage.

“Two of us managed to survive being split, pet. But now we’ve become three – I just don’t bloody well know if we can.”

Buffy found she was running her fingers through the tight platinum curls. It was terrifying, seeing Spike weakened, without any strength. But that was what the demon gave him. And all that part had been extracted from his body and given a shape, a human form. So what was left – oh god, was he dying? Was William?

She forced herself to think, to remember why she’d used the dividing rod on Spike. “You three have to do the charm, Spike. We can’t wait. The Master has to be sent to an alternative universe or else – ”

“You’ll have to kill him and then all us Aurealians perish! You don’t have to tell me, pet. I’ve got the message, loud and clear. I just don’t know how we’re going to do it because, not to sound too cheesy and dramatic, luv, I think I’m dying anyway.” His head fell back against the wall and she winced at how ill he looked.

“I’m so sorry, Spike. I thought when he arrived, the demon would be like, well, like you and William. A person, talking, someone you could explain things to, ask for his help.”

Spike laughed wearily, a thin sound that tore at her heart. “Explain? You can try, pet. I just don’t know if he’ll understand. He’s not human if he’s got a human form; he’s pure demon. His whole reason for being is to kill.”

“But he’s been part of you all these years. You’ve controlled him.”

Spike looked at her. “Chipped, pet, remember? That’s what’s been controlling him lately.”

Buffy shook her head. She didn’t fully believe that. OK, Spike had been chipped so he couldn’t kill anyone, but before that there had been little signs, times when he could have slaughtered out of hand, and he hadn’t. Surely if the demon had been nothing but a killing machine, he wouldn’t have hesitated? No, she couldn’t, wouldn’t believe that. “Does he – can he recognise things, people? Would he know who I am?”

Spike‘s eyes glazed and for a dreadful moment she thought he’d faded away. Then she realised he was trying to ‘feel’ for the demon in his head.

“Not sure, Slayer. Now he’d not inside me, I can’t tell as much. I knew he didn’t like being watched, but maybe that was just because I don’t like being watched!”

Buffy stood up, looking grim. “Stay here. Rest. I’m going to talk to him.”

“Slayer – be careful. Stay close to William. He – ” an odd look of remembrance came into his eyes – “he loves William. He won’t hurt him.”

She stood up, then stopped as his arm shot out and with the last of his strength he grabbed her hand. “Buffy – don’t – hurt him. I can’t let you – hurt him.”

She touched his cheek, just once, wanting to promise, but unable to do so. This was a race against time: the charm had to work or one way or the other she was going to lose Spike. 

She hurried over to the makeshift cage. The demon hadn’t moved, nor had William. But he looked as pale and sick as Spike. Whatever was happening, it was killing all three of them. “William!” she called softly.

“Miss Buffy. How is Spike? He feels – sad.”

“You can read his mind?”

William shook his head. “No, just his feelings. Like he can mine. And our brother here.“

“But why are you sick, William? You didn’t have the demon inside you? You were in Spike! I don’t understand.” She shook the bars, then stopped, guiltily as they moved under the strength of her grip.

William turned his head and gave her that particular sweet smile that was his alone. She wondered sadly why she hadn’t been able to fall in love with him. Make love with him – OK, no problem. Hot and sweet and magnificent – once he’d learnt which way was up, so to speak. But even in the glory of the sex they’d shared, she’d known he wasn’t Spike, wasn’t the man she was destined to love.

“I can’t exist without Spike and Spike can’t exist without Demon,” William said patiently, as if he was teaching a simple Latin sentence to a schoolgirl. 

“For someone who hasn’t been a vampire for very long, you seem to understand better than Spike who’s had over a hundred years of it.”

“We’re three parts of the whole – just as the charm said. Love, desire and need.” He gasped suddenly, his eyes closed and swaying, he fell forwards onto his knees.

Buffy pulled open the door and entered the cage. As she dragged William to one side, his hand slid out of the demon’s, who threw back his head and howled. The blanket slid down round his waist and he glared up at Buffy, yellow eyes under a tangle of dirty hair, Spike’s face but blurred, twisted.

“Kill!” The word grated out and for a second she hesitated. She had a stake, but what use would that be against this thing? And if she did destroy it, that would finish Spike and William. They would both die. They were dying already. She could feel that with every nerve in her body.

William had collapsed completely, curled up in a ball on the far side of the cage; and she could just see Spike, trying to drag himself towards her across the basement floor. But there wasn’t any time; this was all her doing, she was the one who had to see it through.

Buffy sank to the floor and, without flinching, reached over to take Demon’s hand between both of hers. It felt thin, dry and bony, the nails long and jagged. Even as she watched, another growl broke from his lips and the mouth that was a mockery of the one she loved so much, twisted, fangs reaching towards her neck.

She eased back, fighting the desire to kill this thing with one swift twist of its scrawny neck. “Demon – listen to me – do you know me? I’m Buffy Summers. I’m – I’m a friend of Spike and William. And I need your help!”

To be continued

 

Author's note: Do hope you are enjoying the story. Thank you for all comments and kudos.


	19. "Mine!"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which three become four become one and everything changes.

Chp 19: Mine!

 

“A demon’s fire changes all,  
The Old Returns,  
Love Alone can break the Thrall,  
Passion Burns,  
Past and present merged must be  
By Love, desire and need times three”

 

"Demon – listen – do you know me? My name’s Buffy. I’m – I’m a friend of Spike and William. And I need your help! We all need your help."

As Buffy reached out again to take Demon’s hand, Spike groaned and dragged himself closer to the cage. He could feel whatever force kept him alive draining out of him. All he was now was a shell, an empty vessel echoing in a terror of loneliness without William and Demon to keep him company. But he had to get to his girl; someone had to protect her from Demon, protect Demon from her, and there was no response from William – his grip on this world seemed even lighter than Spike’s.

"Demon." Her voice was suddenly gentle – and Spike felt tears glaze his eyes. When had she ever been gentle with him? There was a note of something in her tone – he crawled another few inches – then stopped, his limbs refusing to work. "Demon – please answer me. I know you’re afraid but you have to help us. All of us." And Spike knew what the elusive note was – tenderness.

"Sssslayer!"

Buffy tried not to flinch as the yellow, feral eyes blazed up into hers from amongst the tangles of hair. She felt a surge of pity for this creature; it was so lost, so scared, so helpless. Except, of course, it wasn’t. She knew very well that those jagged fingernails would take out her eyes in a slashing second, that the broken fangs would fasten on her neck and drain her blood in a moment. Forcing herself to stay calm, she said, "OK, yes, Slayer here, but still a friend to William and Spike. And you."

With the power of his will alone, Spike raised his head and forced himself forward one more time. If he could just reach William – "Buffy!" His voice was no more than a croak. "Don’t get too close. He doesn’t understand – he – "

Demon twisted suddenly and stood up, crouching now against the basement wall. Buffy started to move away, then hesitated and forced herself to remain still. She held out her hand, palm upwards and with a thrill of horror, watched as he reached out, took her hand and lifted it to his nose to sniff her skin. She felt herself beginning to tremble and slowly reached behind her back to where a stake was jammed into her waistband. One wrong move and she’d –

Then she shuddered. Demon’s tongue had slid out and he was licking her palm. And it was Spike’s tongue and William’s, but hot, not cold. Burning, tracing a pattern on her skin in heat the way the other two had done with cold. She couldn’t pull her hand away, and with a sensation of horror she realised she didn’t want to. Of all the things that had happened to her recently, this was the most terrifying; her body reacting in the same way to Demon as it did to Spike and William. Her blood speaking to his as it did to theirs.

The shaggy head lifted, the yellow eyes burnt into hers. "Slayer – Demon," it hissed. "Mine!"

Buffy shuddered. "Yes, Demon, yours. Now will you help me?"

"Buffy - " Spike had reached the cage and was lying slumped over William’s body. "You need to do the charm soon. I don’t think we’re going to hold out long."

"I’m trying. He’s – I don’t know if he understands what I’m saying. Spike, I need you to help."

William was floating in a dark, empty place. Far away he could hear a voice calling to him, but he couldn’t hear what it was saying or who it was. He was lost – there was that dreadful understanding that he should be somewhere, with someone and not knowing who. He knew he loved, ached with love for – for – for the others! Yes, that was it, the other brothers that made him whole. He was lost but they were looking for him…

Spike cupped William’s face in his hands, running his fingers over the closed lids. “Wake up, William. Bloody well, wake up! You can sleep when this is all over. Demon needs you. We both need you, so sodding well, open your eyes.”

Suspended in nothing, William could hear the voice he trusted the most calling to him. But he was so tired; he just wanted to sleep and sleep. He must have stayed out so late at Cecily’s party last night. Mother would be cross if he didn’t wake up. It was Sunday. They were due at church and still the voice wouldn’t let him rest. He was needed, he had to fight, he couldn’t sleep because – because Spike needed him to be awake. With a moan he forced himself upwards, through the dark clinging webs of half death that were trying to pull him down. But there was the face he knew so well, peering down at him, hard fingers patting his face, bright blue eyes shadowed but concerned – and with a gasp he was back and so were his memories of what had happened.

“Spike - Demon?”

“Alive, but I don’t know for how long. Buffy needs us three to be conscious. We’ve got to do the charm again.”

William clambered to his feet, swaying violently, but pushing aside Spike’s help. “Leave me. Take care of yourself. I can stand. But I fear I am not long for this world. Mother will be so upset if I fail to return. We have proved a great disappointment to her, brother.”

Spike laughed, then draped his arm over William’s shoulders and turned to Buffy and Demon. “Stand back, pet. We’ll take care of him. Get the bloody charm ready – quick.”

Buffy gazed into the dark blue eyes she loved, then into the softer sapphire gaze that she liked and admired. “I’ll be as fast as I can. We’ll bring all Willow’s paraphernalia down here. Just hold on – all of you.”

She turned to leave, but with a speed that took them all by surprise, Demon shot out a bony arm and caught her left arm just below the shoulder. “Mine!” he hissed, glaring at the other two, defying them.

There was a long pause, and then Spike slowly lifted his hand, linked it with William’s and covered Demon’s fingers where they dug into Buffy’s flesh. He and William took another step forward and now they surrounded her. “No – Ours!” he stated flatly.

Buffy fought to keep the pain from showing on her face. Her arm had gone numb and she could no longer feel the fingers of her left hand. She was being held so tightly it hurt; three people were standing so close to her she couldn’t move. She could feel the soft fabric of Spike’s T-shirt, the ripple of the muscles moving under it. The weight of William’s thigh was against hers and in front of her, huddled under the old blanket, Demon’s golden eyes gleamed.

And without thinking, she raised her right hand, placed it on top of theirs and said with all the passion that flowed in her Slayer blood, “Mine!”

They were walking in the dark, arm in arm, shoulder to shoulder. Their feet made no sound, there was just a cool wind on their faces. She was them and they were her – love surrounded her, ran through her, consumed her, was her. What she felt for them, what they felt for her and each other, it flowed together in a swirling stream until she was unable to tell who was feeling what.

All she knew was that her blood called to theirs, sang the same song, whispered the same words of love, need and desire. The blood in her veins burnt like black honey and she knew if she tilted back her head she could feed on everyone, take what she wanted, and it would be good because they were no longer separate but one whole, the four of them fused, complete – happy – 

“Buffy - Buffy! For god’s sake wake up!”

The words sounded a long way away and she shut them out, refused to listen, would not answer, could not hear, would not understand –

“Buffy! It’s Dawn. Please, please come back, Buffy. Please. The Master’s coming and I’m scared.”

Blood calling from the other side, blood they all acknowledged because they were one and shared everything. She felt the bonds loosening, just a fraction, and then the voice was closer, louder and she opened her eyes –

“Oh geez, Willow, she’s conscious. Buffy, are you OK?” Dawn was leaning over her. She seemed to be flat on the floor and struggled to sit up.

“Buffy - what happened? Spike – William – the Demon thing – they look – Buffy, I think they’re dead!”

Willow came hurtling down the stairs, followed by Xander and Anya. They stood, looking nervously down at her as she slowly got to her feet.

Buffy stared down at the bodies and swayed for a second. Dead? Spike dead? Then inside her she felt him stir, felt William and Demon swirling at his side and knew they were not dead. She was carrying whatever they were, whatever made them, inside her. She remembered saying ‘Mine!’, being driven by the demon influence in her Slayer blood to take them and make them hers. And that was exactly what she’d done. 

“They’re not dead,” she muttered now, reaching out to stroke Dawn’s hair back from her anxious face. “How long have I been unconscious, Will?”

“About thirty minutes. We didn’t know what to do. The four of you were holding hands and we couldn’t pull you apart. What happened?”

Buffy didn’t answer. She stared at the bodies lying, their heads together, Spike, William and Demon. Three hands still entwined and hers ached to join them, to go back, to be one again. But she couldn’t because – she forced herself to concentrate, ignore the pull, the voices whispering in her head to come back to them, because they loved her.

“Buffy, how are we going to defeat the Master now? We can’t do the charm without Spike and William.” Willow sounded almost angry, as if the fact that her magic was not able to do what the vampires could was scratching at her soul.

“Well, whatever we do, we need to do it fast.” Anya stared at Buffy and then down at the slack bodies on the floor. She had a very good idea what had happened. “The Master and his friends are gathering outside and I don’t think they’re in any mood to wait.”

“We’ll do the charm.” Buffy whispered. “Willow, bring everything down here – the glass globes, everything. Xander – Anya – keep the Master at bay as long as you can. But don’t get yourself killed. Let me deal with him if he gets down the stairs. Dawn – ”

“Don’t tell me to run away and hide!”

Buffy hesitated, the insistent pressure inside her saying, “Keep her safe. Blood of our blood.” 

Dawn reached out, her eyes wide with wonder and touched her sister’s face. “They’re inside you!” she gasped suddenly and Buffy realised that of course she would understand in a way the others couldn’t. She’d been made from Buffy’s blood; the trace demon inside her was calling to the other three even now.

Buffy smiled. “We want you safe,” she said at last. “All of us. It’s important, Dawnie. We can’t – function – if you’re in danger. Go out the back way to Spike’s crypt. You’ll be OK there. We’ll come for you as soon as we can. We promise.”

The teenager hesitated; she didn’t fully understand what was happening, but knew this was the only thing she could do to help. She stared down at the bodies on the floor. “Keep them all safe,” she said and turning, hurried away.

Willow clattered down the stairs, clutching a box full of all she needed to build another charm. “I’ve put a barrier up across the door and Xander and Anya will fight him off if they can. But Buffy, how can you do this? I don’t understand because hey, before we had to have the three parts of Spike – love, desire and need.”

Buffy watched as the redhead built the pyramid of white glass globes on the floor of the cage. “They’re not dead, Will,” she said softly. “I’m holding their - well, not souls, but their life force, inside me.”

Willow looked up sharply, her hands jerking and almost sending the glass globes smashing to the floor. Her eyes grew darker and darker. “Buffy, you couldn’t have been so stupid!”

Buffy stared at her best friend, hearing her speak, but not bothered by what she said, wondering why she seemed so distant. Her words were unimportant, had nothing to do with the four of them; what was the point of trying to explain this sensation, this complete belonging. She had loved before, lusted before, but this was deeper, better, sweeter and sharper. Slayer, vampire, human and demon in every sort of combination, flowed through her body and she had never felt so safe, so loved, so strong in all her life.

Screams and crashes sounded from upstairs, then the door was flung open and Xander and Anya half fell down the steps into the basement. “He’s coming, Buffy! Couldn’t stop him,” Xander gasped, waving an axe in front of him.

Willow was pouring the remainder of the charm mixture into the bowl but a vampire lunged down the steps, threw something across the basement that smashed into the bowl sending the mixture spilling out across the glass sphere pyramid.

Buffy dispatched the vamp casually with a back-handed swipe.

“Buffy - we can’t do the spell now. You have to kill The Master!” Willow shouted, backing away. 

A freezing chill ran through the basement and Buffy looked up the stairway to where a small, wizened skull on a body that had been old for a very long time began to walk slowly down the steps. The yellow gaze swung round and pinned her like an insect on a board. She felt the endless evil, the delight of being free again, the knowledge that nothing this time could stop him

She retreated until she was standing astride the three bodies on the floor - toes of one foot touching Spike’s head, the heel William’s. Her other foot pressed against Demon's mouth. She hesitated for a second then, inside her she felt the surge of power and knew she didn’t need Willow’s potions. 

“Ah, Miss Summers. We meet again.”

Jeez, predictable much! she thought. “Not for long!” she snapped and threw back her head as the Mayan words of the charm poured out of her mouth. She hadn’t remembered them, but William had. 

“Buffy! Kill him. You have to kill him. Forget sending him to another dimension. Just kill him!” Willow was yelling but they ignored her. They refused to die. Aurealians all. Never die.

But even as the weird words echoed round the basement, the Master still walked slowly, inexorably towards her, his skeletal hands outstretched but William and Spike held her body steady and they ignored him because the power they shared was growing and growing, love, desire, need, love, desire, need, and with a final scream of defiance they pointed at the globes and with a shattering crash the glass turned black and dissolved into shards.

The Master stopped, his fingers just inches from Buffy’s throat, his feet touching the blanket still lying across Demon’s twisted body. The eyes buried deep inside the skull blazed with killing hate, then slowly the expression changed. Fear, anger, disbelief – all slid across his face and then, with a popping sound that was purely anti-climactic, he vanished.

The other vamps turned and ran, pursued by Xander and Anya with enthusiasm rather than any great hope of catching them. Buffy sank to the floor, her legs unable to hold her up any longer. She could feel Spike cheering, William laughing and Demon – puzzled but happy his loved ones were pleased.

She reached out a trembling hand and stroked the three heads close to her – one with platinum hair that made her fingers long to linger, one with slightly softer curls and the third – dirty, greasy, but loved, just the same. They were her and she was them and that was all that mattered.

“Buffy, you did it!” Willow whispered, stepping forward out of the shadows. “You’ve banished the Master. And you didn’t use the potion. How did you do that?” She sounded almost jealous.

“Not me. Us.”

She glanced up at Willow, her eyes fearful, because she’d suddenly realised she had no idea at all how to get her family back into their bodies.

To be continued


	20. Betrayal!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everyone shows their true colours.

Chp 20 : Betrayal

 

Willow looked long and hard at Xander and Anya. Her best friend refused to meet her gaze, but the demon girl just raised her eyebrows and nodded slightly. “So, we all agree,” Willow said softly. “Xander?”

There was a long pause. “She’ll hate us,” he said at last, worrying at a thumb nail.

Willow sighed but squared her shoulders. She was prepared for the hate, but knew what she'd decided was the right course of action. “Only until it’s all over and done with. Then, as the weeks go by, she’ll see we were right. Buffy isn’t silly. This Spike thing is just – ”

“A thing?” Anya put in helpfully.

“Exactly!”

“Who’s going to tell her?” Xander still wouldn’t look at the redhead and she bit her lip. She needed all three of them to make a stand; she couldn’t have Xander wavering like this.

“I will, but I’d like you two to be there as well.”

“But Will, they’re sort of – inside her! What happens to Buffy if they don’t go back into one body?”

“I rang Giles. He’s furious, but he says that he thinks Spike and William and the Demon can only exist for a short while outside a human frame. They’ll just – vanish – and Buffy will be our Buffy again. I think she’ll be glad – eventually.”

“That Demon thing – ” Xander shuddered. “How can she touch it?”

Anya opened her mouth to say that she couldn’t see what was so very horrible about Demon, then shut it again. Xander and Willow were in very odd moods and she wasn’t at all sure she completely understood why they were reacting like this. She would have thought they’d have been delighted that The Master was gone, but all they could think about was Buffy and Spike.  
OK, she knew only too well that Xander still had these silly juvenile feelings for the Slayer, but Willow? That was weird and Anya didn’t do weird in this world. She had left weird behind and was not going to embrace it again. It was as if Willow had suddenly decided that she was the leader of the Scoobies, that she was more powerful than Buffy, had better ideas, knew exactly which was the right way to go. Anya found she was quite scared of this Willow and kept silent.

Buffy was still sitting where they had left her – on the floor of the cage Xander had built, with the three bodies collapsed around her. She had pulled Spike so he lay half across her lap, William’s head was pillowed against one leg and Demon against the other.

She looked up as her three friends walked slowly down the stairs. “Geez, Willow, paint dries faster than you walk. What have you worked out? Is it another spell? How long will it take? I’ve got to get them back inside their bodies – fast.”

Willow walked gingerly to the edge of the cage and peered inside. She shuddered at the sight of Demon lying closest to her. Even unconscious, his face was twisted and snarling with rage. William looked peaceful, as if just asleep. She couldn’t see Spike’s face - his head was buried in the softness of Buffy’s body – but his hair was a riot of tiny curls, pulled into tangles by Buffy’s compulsively stroking fingers.

“Buffy, listen. I’ve just been speaking to Giles – ”

“Good idea. He’s sure to have some plan.”

“Giles thinks – and we all agree – that you should just – just – well, let them go.” Her voice trailed away as Buffy’s hand stopped stroking Spike’s head and curled protectively over it instead.

“Let them go?” The Slayer’s voice was no more than a whisper and deep inside her, three voices were immediately, anxiously querying why she was upset, what was wrong, who could they kill for her?

“Buffy, even if we could find a way of getting their – I don’t know what to call them – their spirits, perhaps – out of you and back into their bodies, should we do that? They've been part of you, Buffy. We don’t know what that might mean if we restore Spike to his old self again.”

Buffy looked from Willow to Xander, then Anya, her eyes darkening to deep emerald. “Xander? Are you in on this?”

Xander pushed his fingers through his dark hair and gazed desperately around. “Buffy, don’t look at me like that! I know it sounds hard and isn’t probably what you want at the moment – ”

“But everyone thinks you’ll be pleased in a few weeks time,” Anya interrupted eagerly.

“You want Spike and William to die!” Buffy could hardly get the words out.

“And the demon,” Anya added.

Buffy ignored her. She stared at Willow and Xander as if she didn’t recognise them and in some way she didn’t. These were her two oldest friends. They’d fought together, been through every conceivable trial and battle. They’d both brought her back from the dead at different times but did they think that gave them the right to tell her how to lead her life, to decide that the man she loved should die? “Willow – don’t do this, please,” she said, trying to keep her voice from trembling, silently hushing the anguished voices inside her who didn’t understand what was going on but could feel her pain.

The redhead took a step backwards. “Buffy – I know it’s hard for you to understand, but trust me, this is the right thing to do. You took them into your body. A sort of claiming. What will that make you if they all go back? Buffy, you could be some sort of demon too!”

Buffy pulled the bodies closer to her. Betrayal! It was worse than any feeling she’d ever known. It left a taste in her mouth of ash and salt. Because she knew that whatever happened, nothing would ever, could ever be the same again. Her best friends were betraying her, killing the man she loved, killing William and dear Demon as well and all because they thought they knew best. She looked into Willow’s face and shuddered at what she saw there. Power, pride and a complete resolute belief that what she was doing was right. Buffy knew nothing she could say would change her mind and in that moment knew her friend was lost to her forever.

She turned to Xander and Anya. “Xander, I’m begging you – don’t do this. Help me set them free. Anya, please – ”

Xander felt bile flood his mouth and wanted to throw up. Buffy Summers was begging for a vampire’s life! It made him sick to his stomach. She was sitting there, holding those three creatures to her body as if the warmth of her flesh was going to warm their cold limbs.

“Buffy, you’re not yourself. You wouldn’t want this freak show to go on if you were. OK, I’m sorry about William. He seemed an OK sort of guy. But Spike and that – that – thing there on the floor! They’re inside you. It’s disgusting! But if you just let them fade away, then everything can get back to normal.”

Buffy heard herself laugh. “Normal? What, you reckon tomorrow we’ll all be heading off to eat pizza and see a movie? What world are you all living in? Xander, you’re helping kill the man I love.”

“Don’t say that! Don’t ever say that!” The shout echoed round the basement, full of pain and anger and bitterness and spinning round, desperate to get away from her stare, he ran up the basement steps.

Willow edged away, too. “I know you’re upset now, Buff, but it won’t be for long. Giles reckons they’ll fade away quite quickly and then you’ll see, you’ll be free. You’ll feel so much better. You’ll be our old Buffy again.”

Buffy watched her go. The witch didn’t even glance once at the bodies. She didn’t glance back once at the person who used to be her best friend.

“Slayer! Miss Buffy! I want to kill!” Three voices mingling inside her. She bowed her head over their bodies and the tears that she’d held back for so long began to fall, dampening Spike’s curls into dark wheat.

“It’s OK,” she whispered out loud. “Don’t worry. I’m OK. I’ll look after you.” She didn’t want them to know, to be afraid. Perhaps Willow was right. They would just fade away, not know anything – just vanish. Then what would become of her? Because Buffy knew the claiming was a deeper link than Willow and Xander realised. If Spike, William and Demon went, then perhaps she would die as well.And at the moment, she would welcome death if it meant she could go into the darkness with her family.

A sound brought her head up; Anya was standing at the cage door. “You still here,” Buffy said wearily. “Don’t let me keep you.”

“They’re scared,” the ex-demon said, her usual sharp tones softened. “Scared of what you will become. And Xander really doesn’t like Spike. In fact, Xander doesn’t like demons at all.”

“That’s going to make your life together very complicated.”

Anya nodded. “Yes. But I love him, so hopefully we’ll work it out. I must go before Willow forces him to think about not marrying me.”

She turned, then retraced her footsteps. “I liked Spike and William,” she said bluntly. “And although I think Demon should have far more concern for his personal hygiene than he does at present, none of us are perfect.” She came even closer and Buffy looked up sharply.

“Willow is being incredibly bossy. I have hundreds of years of experience behind me and she treats me as if I am a complete amateur. She leaves this lying around for anyone to find. Here!” She thrust something at Buffy who reached out automatically to take it. “This isn’t because I like you and I’ve no idea if you can make it work on yourself and if you can, I’d be grateful if you didn’t tell Xander who gave it to you because he simply wouldn’t understand.”

Then with a clatter of high heels, she was gone and Buffy was left staring at the Ferula-Gemina dividing rod she had used to get Spike and Demon out of William’s body.

The basement fell silent as Anya’s footsteps faded away and the door at the top of the stairs slammed shut. Buffy sank to the floor holding the dividing rod tightly against her chest. Why had the ex-demon girl given it to her? She wouldn’t be popular with Willow or Xander if they ever found out, and Buffy knew Anya liked being popular.

‘But they both treat her as if she’s a kid,’ she thought wearily. ‘And she isn’t. She’s older than old and has seen more, done more, knows more than any of us, including Willow. They just don’t accept that or don’t want to. Whatever!’

So she had the dividing rod, but what could she do with it? Buffy stared in despair at the three bodies lying on the ground next to her. This was her family! Her beloveds. How could Willow and Xander think that what had happened was a dangerous thing? She had never felt so complete, so loved, desired and needed in all her life.

Spike, William and Demon lay still: there was no flicker of life that she could see. But inside her, their voices were still there, urging her to talk to them, petting her, comforting, loving.

“Spike, I don’t know what to do,” she whispered in despair. Should she aim the dividing rod at his body or William’s or Demon’s? What if they weren’t strong enough to survive another blast of magic? She rocked backwards and forwards, cradling his head against her chest, running her fingers across the pale cheeks, circling his lips with her nails. 

“Yes, you do, pet.” His voice, or the memory of his voice echoed inside her head. “You’re the Slayer. Incredible, magnificent, marvellous. And my girl. You’ll do the right thing.”

“I trust you, Miss Buffy.” William’s voice, slighter softer, just a touch more English echoed after Spike’s. “But you mustn’t worry. If we go, we go together, the three of us, and that is good.”

“Not going! Staying! Help us! Will live! Survive!”

Buffy could have wept. Demon had no second thoughts; he knew exactly what he wanted – was that imperious, animal tone of voice what she heard so often in Spike’s words?

‘Spike – William!’ she called silently.

‘We're here, pet. Both of us.’ Spike’s voice came with a huge rush of warmth, a wave of love and heat and passion that threatened to push her over the edge. She wanted nothing more than to let go and join him and the other two. What if they went on without her? Buffy shuddered and swayed, one fist gripping Spike’s shoulder, the other tangling in William’s cold hand.

‘Don’t leave me!’

‘We won’t, Slayer. But you need to hurry. We don’t know how much longer we can stay with you.’

‘Demon?’

‘Demon’s stronger than me.’ That was William – his voice soothing and soft. ‘I fear I shall be the first to go, Miss Buffy. I’m finding it extremely hard to stay, as much as I want to. Spike is holding me here, but it’s very difficult - I don’t understand what’s happening…’

‘I’ve got the dividing rod. Should I use it on Demon? Will he go back inside you, Spike, if I do?’

‘Bloody hell, Slayer.’ Even as a spirit voice, Spike sounded pissed off. ‘You know I’m no good with the magicals.’

‘But there’s no one left to help!’ 

‘Yes, there is.’ William stirred again, but sounding even further away. 

‘Who?’ Buffy asked desperately. “Tell me who?’

* * * * * *

In Spike’s crypt, Dawn was sitting curled up in his armchair, hugging her knees. She felt so useless, so helpless. She hated being young; always the one who had to be protected, looked after. OK, so Buffy didn’t want to worry about her when she was fighting, that was cool, but no one seemed to realise that it was harder just sitting, waiting, not knowing what was going on, never being needed to do anything, always in the way.

Dawn gazed round the dark room. It was weird how at home she felt here. She knew every inch as well as she knew her own house. Spike – she felt a tremor run through her nerves. He’d looked so very dead, lying on the floor back there. But he wasn’t, of course. Geez, of course he was! But not dead in the not-there-any-more sense. Somehow his spirit and William’s and the gunky Demon’s were inside Buffy.

She jumped out of the chair and paced around the crypt. So not wanting to think that through anymore! How could they be inside her sister? Did it hurt? And what would happen if Buffy couldn’t get them back into their own bodies? A chill ran over her body and she realised it was fright. She lit a couple of candles, watching the match burn slowly down towards her fingers. Having William here had been fun, but he wasn’t Spike and as for the demon creature, not so cool. But what if Buffy could only choose one to live? Which would it be?

Just then, as the flame touched her fingers and she winced and shook out the match, Dawn jumped, because inside her head, deep in the deepest part of her brain – had come a pressure, a demand. She’d been told to stay here until Buffy told her otherwise, but now – she knew she had to go to her sister. How, she had no idea – but something was pulling her, calling to her and she had no choice but to obey. Hurry! Come quickly! Come home now!

Dawn ran all the way back to Revello from the cemetery. There was no sign of vampires or The Master. Sunnydale looked its normal self – cars driving by, people jogging, dogs being taken for walks, everything looked ordinary. Even as she ran, she thought how weird that was. All this chaos, death and demons had been happening within a few yards of these people and they knew nothing about it.

She passed Janice’s house, a stitch beginning to catch in her side. But she couldn’t slow down, couldn’t make her feet stop running. She had a fleeting thought that perhaps she could run up the drive and knock on the door. Janice’s mom would open it and ask her in and she could pretend that this scary, overwhelming feeling inside her wasn’t really happening. She and Janice would go upstairs and giggle and phone their friends and hang out and –

But she was fifty yards past now, still running and there was home – still standing, no Master, no demons, no vamps, just – and the relief was so great she could taste it, Willow, Xander and Anya standing on the sidewalk outside, chatting. She skidded to a halt next to them, gasping for breath, her dark hair tangled, flying free and they looked round, startled.

“Dawnie! What are you doing here?”

“You were told to stay at Spike’s crypt. I heard Buffy tell you.”

“Hey, Dawn. Are you up for pizza?”

She frowned. They all sounded – she couldn’t find the right word – weird, stilted – then she found it – they sounded guilty. “Hey, where’s Buffy? What happened? Has The Master gone? Are the boys back?”

“Oh you don’t have to worry about The Master anymore,” Xander said hurriedly. “He won’t be bothering us any more. We kicked his sorry – ”

“Xander!”

“Sorry, Ahn! He’s gone, Dawnie.”

“Buffy?”

“Er, she’s still inside, but she’s busy, Dawnie. We don’t want to interrupt her at the moment.”

“Busy doing what? Are Spike and William back? What happened to the demon?”

“Look, let’s go and get something to eat and we’ll explain it to you.” Willow was reaching out for her hand; Xander was moving to her other side. They were cutting her off from the house.

Dawn swayed as the pull inside her brain came again. Hurry! Come! Quickly! And now her own emotions were boiling to the surface – a swirling joy of knowledge – at last Buffy needed her, Spike, William, Demon - they all needed her. 

To be continued


	21. The Long Journey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dawn and Buffy both make vital decisions

Chapter 21: The long journey

It was dark now in the basement. The bulb in the overhead lamp had flickered and gone out. Buffy let the shadows flow up and over her body, welcoming them as fore-runners of the night she knew must come for them all very soon. It was a long time now since Xander and Willow had left, since Anya had secretly handed Buffy the dividing rod. A long time since her friends had betrayed her. And there was no sign of Dawn. Was that another betrayal? Somehow she didn’t believe that, but Dawn was just a child. The others were bigger, stronger, adult. What was more, Dawn thought they were her friends.

‘Dawn is not a child. She is of our blood. She is near.’ Spike’s voice echoed inside her head, but it was fainter now and she hadn’t heard William speak for some minutes. Demon was still alive; Buffy could feel him pulsing in her veins, a heat, a passion for life that caught in her throat with its power.

‘But not here,’ she replied sadly. She reached out with every nerve in her body, trying to sense her sister, feeling the link to the shared blood that coupled them together. ‘Spike – ’

‘Sweetheart?’

‘Is William - ?’

‘Sleeping, pet. Very tired. We need – ’

‘I know what we need! Oh God, I can’t stand this. Dawn!’ She flung the name out into the dark but there was no reply.

Sighing, she sank down again onto the floor, cradling Spike’s cold body in her arms. She reached out and pulled William and Demon closer as well. So, this was it. The day, hour and minute she’d been waiting for since she was fifteen. She found herself smiling. It wasn’t how she’d imagined the end would be. She’d died twice already but, if she was honest, she couldn’t remember much about it. There had been water the first time, of course. And fire and falling the second. This time –

“You’re not dying, Slayer!” Spike’s voice cracked through the mists that were beginning to gather inside her brain. “We might be, but you’ll still be alive!”

Buffy ignored him. She refused to go on alone; go on without him and William and Demon. 

“Buffy! Bloody hell, woman. Listen to me. You can’t just die because we do! Think, pet. We want you to live!” Spike sounded frantic and from somewhere far away, she could feel William waken, weakly questioning, adding his pleas to Spike’s. She simply shut out their voices. She was going with them! Refused to be parted. She’d spent her whole life putting other people first. This time she was going to be with those she loved. Through death and beyond. She’d decided.

“Buffy! Buffy!”

No, she wouldn’t listen! She screwed up her eyes as tightly as she could, twined her fingers around Spike’s hands and waited.

“Buffy! Wake up! Please! Jeez, how can you go to sleep at a time like this?”

With a moan, she flicked open her eyes. She knew that voice, had to reply to it, even though she didn’t want to. “Dawn! I wasn’t so much asleep – I was – thinking. You came. You heard us!”

“If you count nasty squeaky things in my head voices, then yes, I did. How did you do that? There was you, and Spike and William and Mr-I-Haven’t-Washed-for-a-Century, all talking to me at once.”

“Why are you whispering?”

Dawn glanced over her shoulder, her eyes wide and scared in the gloom. “Xander and Willow – they didn’t want me to come down here. They took me to get pizza. I said I needed the bathroom, then wriggled out of the window and ran all the way back. But I don’t – ” she hesitated, “I don’t understand, Buffy. Is it because of Demon? Why are they trying to stop me talking to you?”

Buffy gently laid Spike’s slack body onto the floor and stood up. “Dawn – listen – I’ll explain later. It’s – complicated.”

Dawn rolled her eyes at her sister. “You mean it’s about sex!”

“What? No! I don’t mean that at all. Well, it’s a bit about sex. It’s about how Willow and Xander feel about me and – listen, Dawn. We can’t do this now. You’ve got to help me get the boys back into their bodies.”

Dawn reached through the bars and gently touched William’s pale, still face. It felt like ice. “I thought they’d be back by now. It’s too long, Buffy, isn’t it? They can’t just – live – in you like this.”

Buffy nodded. “I wanted Willow and Xander to help, but they wouldn’t. No! – ” She flung up a hand as Dawn’s face turned ugly. “We can’t get into it now, Dawn. They’ll have to wait. They’re not important: Spike, William and Demon are.”

“Okay. But Buffy, don’t forget what they’ve done when everything’s back to normal because I won’t! Now, what do you want me to do?” Dawn stood up very straight and with a flick of her wrist, tied her long hair back in a tight knot. Buffy found herself smiling; her little sister looked so grown up, so ready to fight any battle put in front of her.

“I think the dividing rod thingy should take them out of me and put them back in their bodies. At least, Anya gave it to me, so she obviously thinks that’s what will happen.”

Dawn’s eyes got larger and larger. “But Buffy, you didn’t use the rod when it first happened; you just – sort of took them! Can’t you just – sort of give them back?”

Buffy shook her head, wishing she could find the strength she needed. The boys’ voices had fallen silent now. Were they alive? She was sure they were because she knew, without knowing how, that the pain she would feel if they went would overwhelm her.

She realised Dawn was still waiting for a reply. How long had the silence lasted? With an enormous effort, she dragged her brain into action, forced her tongue and lips to move. “I can’t do it, Dawn. I don’t know why. But I can’t. All I can do is use magic to get them back inside their bodies. But I can’t turn the rod on myself. It has to be done by someone else. And the only person who can help is you.” She handed Dawn the rod, then frowned and snatched at her sister’s wrists. They were bleeding from a myriad of cuts. “What the heck?”

“Told you – had to climb through the bathroom window at the pizza place. What I didn’t tell you was that I had to break the glass first! Don’t fuss, Buffy. It’s only a little blood. You’ve seen far worse.”

Buffy’s lips thinned and she had to fight down the surging questions that rose inside her as the boys sensed her distress and Dawn’s pain. Perhaps they weren’t quite so close to death as she’d imagined!

Dawn clutched the rod in both hands, her knuckles white with pressure and anxiety. “I’ve just realised, I don’t know the spell,” she whispered. 

“We do. We’ll say it, you repeat it and keep the rod pointing at me. And Dawn, don’t drop it. No matter what happens, no matter if Willow or Xander arrive, or I scream, or fall down or start singing nursery rhymes, keep the rod pointing at me until I tell you to stop.”

“OK – Buffy – ”

“Yes?”

“What about Demon? If – when he goes back in his body – will he be all demony again? Will you be safe in there with them?”

Buffy felt a smile curve her lips. “That’s why I’m staying inside the bars, Dawnie. But I’ll be OK. He won’t hurt me. We’re – we’re together. All of us.”

Dawn felt a shiver of envy run through her. Buffy’s face looked, jeez, the only words she could find were ‘peaceful’, ‘serene’. As if she’d come to the end of a very long journey and was basking in the warmth and comfort of her own home. She couldn’t imagine ever feeling that happy, that secure. All those feelings had been shattered on the night she discovered her true identity. Oh, she’d got used to telling people that she understood, that it was what you were now that counted, not what you came from, but she knew deep inside that what she’d once taken for granted had vanished. That rock solid foundation of family, parents and unconditional love had turned into bright green shifting energy. There was nothing to rely on, no real support in her world. So yes, she envied Buffy now but threaded through the envy was a skein of joy because she was the one they had called for, the one they needed. In some weird way, she was part of them as well. The blood link between them would not be denied.

“Are you ready, Dawn? We need to hurry.”

She nodded, her gaze never leaving Buffy’s face. 

Buffy turned her mind inwards, searching for the boys, asking for the spell she knew William would remember.

“William!”

“Miss Buffy?” The reply was faint; he’d almost gone.

“I need the spell to put you back in your body. I know you have it.”

“So tired…”

“William! Try – please. For Spike and Demon. For yourself. You have to tell me the spell.”

She let herself go slack and slowly at first and then faster and faster, the words came pouring from her lips. Dawn repeated them, louder and louder as she fired the dividing rod and the air crackled and broke. Buffy felt a surge of pain flood through her and she gasped, swayed and sank to her knees, her hands spreading to touch all three bodies. She moaned and twisted – there had been no pain when she claimed them. Why did it hurt so much now?

Dawn grasped the rod tighter and repeated the spell over and over again. The agony on her sister’s face was dreadful to look at. “Buffy!”

“Don’t…stop….don’t…you….dare….stop!”

Dawn was crying now; tears rolling down her cheeks unheeded as Buffy screamed and collapsed on top of Spike’s body. Somehow – and Dawn would never be able to explain how even to herself – she managed to hold the rod pointing at her sister for another minute before she flung it aside and sank to her knees, clasping the bars of the cage Xander had built what seemed a lifetime ago.

Buffy felt the agony ease slightly. Under her face she could feel the smooth cotton of Spike’s t-shirt. It smelt of him. She could feel the buckle of his belt digging in her stomach, the rasp of his jeans against her legs. If she didn’t open her eyes, she could have been in his crypt, teasing him, flirting with him, eager to let him do whatever he wanted to her. If she didn’t open her eyes, everything would be OK. 

Gently, slowly, she turned her mind inwards and listened. There was only silence. The boys had gone. She felt bereft, abandoned, which was ridiculous because that meant they were back inside their bodies – didn’t it?

“Buffy! Did it work? Are you OK? Are they – back?”

Buffy eased herself off of Spike and just then, William stirred, rolled over and sat up.

“William!” Dawn’s shriek pierced the gloom of the basement. “You’re back.”

“I think…Miss Buffy….yes.”

Buffy smiled in relief. If William was back, then surely Spike and Demon had to be as well. But they were still lying there, not moving. A chill scuttered over her skin. Frantically she called for them inside her head, but no one answered.

tbc


	22. Not her Fault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Buffy makes the hardest decision of her life and Dawn does likewise.

Chapter 22

 

Buffy stared round the gloomy basement wondering why in such a normal, everyday place, her life was on the verge of finishing. Outside the bars of the cage Xander had built to keep Demon under control, everything looked so ordinary. There was still a pile of laundry waiting to go in the dryer, a clutter of paints and cardboard on a table where Dawn had been making something for a school project, pipes gurgled and chugged across the ceiling and a draught of cold air blew down the stairs from the open doorway. 

Yes, just an ordinary basement, except for a cage, her sister clutching the bars outside and the three men she loved most in all the world struggling to live! William’s spirit had gone from her body back into his own, but although Spike and Demon had gone from her, too – and she could have cried at their loss - their bodies lay still and silent.

“Spike! Demon! Answer me. Oh god, please answer me.” Buffy called again inside her head, her lips moving in silent anguish. William had rolled over and was sitting up, leaning against the cage bars, holding his head as if in pain. But at least he was alive and there. The other two still lay on the ground, motionless.

Buffy knelt between them, frantically patting Spike’s face. “Come on, Spike! Come on. You’re there, I know you are. You’re not dead. I won’t allow you to be dead.”

“Buffy…” Dawn’s voice was faint and worried.

“Not now, Dawnie. Please.” She bent over Spike’s body and cupping his face in her hands, pressed her lips to his. They were icy cold and for the first time ever, there was no response to her kiss.

“Buffy…” Dawn forced the name through her lips. She’d never imagined, never believed she could ever feel like this. The world was spinning around her and she reached out blindly for the one person she trusted to make it all stop.

“What?” Buffy spun round, almost snarling the words and then stopped. Dawn was kneeling outside the cage, but as she’d fired the dividing rod at Buffy, she’d stretched her arms inside the bars. Now she was staring at her sister, her eyes huge in her pale face.

“I feel – odd – weird. As if – Buffy, I think they’re inside my head. Spike and Demon. I can’t – oh no – oh, it’s horrid. Make them go away! Buffy!” She fell writhing on the floor, clutching her head, her long dark hair flicking back and forwards as she rolled across the floor.

Buffy gazed at her, dread and understanding beginning to appear on her face. William rubbed his fists childishly into his eyes, like a small boy wishing he could wake up from a bad dream. “Miss Buffy, they are inside Miss Dawn. I can feel them there.”

Buffy left Spike and Demon and crawled out of the cage. She wrapped her arms round her sister’s body and rocked her in her arms. “Omigod. Dawn, I never meant for that to happen. Sshh, sshh, I’ll sort it out. Lay still, Dawnie. They won’t hurt you. They’d never hurt you. They love you.”

Dawn gave a shudder and clung convulsively to Buffy. When she spoke her voice was thready and very young. “I know they won’t hurt me, but Buffy, it’s – it’s so horrible. They’re – inside me!”

Buffy swayed with the conflicting emotions that crushed through her. Relief that Spike and Demon weren’t dead, there was still a chance of saving the man she loved, but a vast pity and anger at what Dawnie was experiencing. Dawn was too young for this – she was still a virgin! This feeling of being possessed, that someone, some things were inside you was more than a violation. How the hell had this happened?

“William?” She turned imploring eyes on the vampire whom she liked but did not love. “What do I do now?”

He crawled across the cage and took her place next to Spike and Demon, gently pulling their bodies closer to him so their heads rested on his knees. The tight platinum curls and greasy hair were stroked with identically tender actions. “Miss Buffy, I think you have to fire the dividing rod again, this time at Miss Dawn. Somehow they were transported into her. Some of these magics seem very unpredictable. But Spike and Demon must return to their own bodies – at once. I only just managed to hold on and they are both now very weak.”

Buffy clutched Dawn tighter as the teenager writhed in her arms. “Why is it hurting her so much? It didn’t hurt me – in fact – “ she hesitated and then at the look of encouragement on his face, whispered, “It was marvellous. I felt - fulfilled. Complete.”

William looked through the bars of the cage at the two sisters, his blue eyes darkening. “I’m not sure but I would imagine possession like this is only for those who have a deep, intimate involvement. Miss Dawn is too young, too innocent. She cannot accept them in the way you accepted us. This wasn’t a choice she made willingly; this was thrust upon her. She may not want to fight in her head, but her body tells her otherwise.”

Buffy reached out and picked up the rod, staring at it suspiciously. “I wonder how much power is left in this thing? Could I hurt Dawn, damage her some more in some way?”

William shook his head. “I know nothing of such things, Miss Buffy. But of one thing I am certain – if you do nothing then Spike and our Demon brother – they will die. Indeed, it may already be too late. But if you use the magic you could save our brothers and kill Miss Dawn.”

“What?”

William looked up at her, the face Spike’s, the expression of loving pity etched on it was all his own. “I cannot tell you what to do. But whatever it is, do it quickly, please. I can hardly feel Spike and Demon.”

Buffy put the dividing rod down on the ground. How could she possibly fire it at Dawn? The power generated could kill her sister. Who knew what difference her magical beginnings would make if she absorbed all that energy. 

Dawn had stopped tossing and turning; she was curled up in a ball, whimpering, great shudders convulsing her body. Holding her tight, Buffy reached out with her mind. They were one. By touching Dawn she could reach for them, feel Spike once more; experience that wonderful sense of love and belonging. Then Dawn gasped and Buffy stopped. No, she couldn’t! Even to say goodbye, she couldn’t enter Dawn’s poor mind and make things even worse. And she knew, with a surge of despair that she couldn’t risk Dawn’s life for her own gain. Soon Spike and Demon would be gone and Dawn would recover.

“Buffy…” Dawn raised her head, her dark eyes pools of pain and hurt. “I’m sorry…I’ve let you all down…I just can’t….”

Buffy hushed her. “You’ve let no one down, Dawn. I’m proud of you, what you’ve done tonight. Just lie still. It’ll….it’ll be better soon. I promise.” She hugged her sister to her, unaware that tears were splashing down onto the teenager’s face.

Dawn struggled round and sat up. What she was experiencing was scary, dreadful, she wanted to die, but the sight of Buffy crying was far more terrifying. “What do you mean? Why aren’t you using the rod thingy to get them out?” 

Buffy tried to sound calm and in control, even though she was screaming inside. “No, I can’t. I don’t know what it’ll do to you. This shouldn’t have happened, but it has, so we’ve got to – well, just wait.”

Dawn grabbed her hand. “Wait for them to die, you mean?”

Buffy struggled to keep her face and voice under control. There was no way she wanted Dawn to feel any guilt. None of this was her fault. She’d come when they called; she’d helped without question or complaint. Buffy felt a flood of anguish course through her. No it was Willow and Xander who were to blame. The so-called friends who’d walked away, left Spike and William to their fate, condemned them. “There’s no choice, Dawnie. I can’t risk your life.”

“You made me risk yours!”

“That was different.”

“No, it wasn’t. Buffy – don’t make me the reason Spike dies. Nothing will be the same again if you do that. You know that’s true. We’ve lost mom, I lost you for a while and now you’re back but don’t make me lose Spike, now. It isn’t fair!”

Buffy found herself trying not to smile. The adult words had ended with a wail of teenage anger. But whatever Dawn wanted, however right she was in some ways, however desperately Buffy wanted Spike back, she knew she couldn’t risk her sister’s life. She picked up the dividing-rod and was about to turn and hand it back to William, to get it out of harm’s way when it happened. From under the long curtain of dark hair that fell across her face, Dawn was watching Buffy’s every move. The second the rod was pointing in her direction, her hand shot out and clamped down on top of Buffy’s. 

With a brilliant flash, the rod fired, straight at Dawn. Buffy screamed and tossed the rod aside as her sister convulsed and collapsed into her arms.

“Dawn! Dawn! Answer me. Omigod, Dawn. Wake up because you are now grounded for months! How dare you do that? How dare you?”

A gentle moan reached her and with a gasp, Dawn’s eyes flickered open. “Buffy? It’s OK. I’m OK. Spike – Demon – are they back?”

Buffy turned and the two sisters stared into the cage. William was on his feet now, gazing down at the bodies on the floor. And as they watched, Spike groaned and rolled over. He was alive. Dawn gently prised Buffy’s fingers from her shoulder. “Go check him out,” she said. “Make sure he’s OK. I’m fine.”

Buffy threw her a look of endless gratitude. She knew she’d never be able to repay her sister for this gift. Then two strides took her back inside the cage and she was on her knees beside Spike, reaching out to touch his face. He looked desperately tired, strained and even paler than usual, but he was back. Her lover and now her soul mate.

He gazed into her eyes but didn’t speak. He just nodded. Buffy turned to touch Demon. She could tell he was back as well, although he was still unconscious, muttering words that were hard to understand. As she watched, Spike’s hand cupped the back of her neck and she laid her head against him, revelling in the sensation of his fingers on her skin.

They were all back! Her boys, her family, all together again. She reached out to hold Demon’s filthy hand. “Don’t worry. We won’t abandon you. You belong to us. We’ll find a way to make you better.”..........

...........He could hear Buffy speaking, knew the woman he loved was close by. He tried to open his eyes and couldn’t. He tried to speak and couldn’t make the words sound sensible. Why didn’t William help? Couldn’t he see? Surely he must know, feel, understand what had happened. With an effort that almost cost him everything, he forced his eyes open a fraction. And what he saw was what he had feared. Buffy was locked in Spike’s arms. But he, Spike, was here inside Demon’s body. And Demon was inside his!

tbc


	23. Love, Desire and Need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which four become one

Strip Snap

 

Chp 23: Love, Desire and Need

 

“What do we do next, Miss Buffy?” William asked wearily. He was watching as the Slayer stroked Spike’s hair, holding him tightly against her body as if she would never let him go. He could feel the tenderness, the tension in each stroke; imagine the sensation of the rough blond curls under his fingers, almost as if he, himself, were touching his brother. Did he feel jealous? Oddly, no. Since the joint claiming, he knew the four of them were joined in a way that had nothing to do with sexual attraction.

He had enjoyed every moment of the times they had made love since he arrived in this strange new world, but realised he had no desire in his body for her now. Love, yes, but desire? No. The only desire he had now was, strangely, a longing to go home, back to Victorian England, where even though he hadn’t had a life full of excitement, it had been his life, to do with as he chose.

“Yes, Buffy – ” Dawn’s voice was a mere thread but at least she was now on her feet, although her face was white from the strain of the past few minutes. “ – the guys are still three separate bodies.”

“I have to go back to my own time, Miss Buffy. And soon. I feel I am dying in this world.” William’s eyelids were drooping over the soft sapphire eyes that were so like Spike’s and yet so very different in the effect they caused. “This situation must come to an end.”

Buffy nodded wearily, feeling his pain as if it was her own, wishing Spike would speak. He was conscious, his blue eyes blazing up at her, but so far he hadn’t spoken. Demon, on the other hand, was moaning and threshing on the floor, as if in great pain.

“OK, I know. I just need a moment – then – ” she picked up the ornate metal rod that had caused so much trouble – “I’m sure I can use the dividing thingy the other way round. If one way splits you, then the reverse should squish you all back into one.”

“But will William just – vanish?” Dawn knelt outside the bars and slid her hand through to touch the quiet vampire. He squeezed her fingers and smiled. 

“I am learning more about the dividing rod every time it is used,” he said and Buffy glanced at him sharply, her eyes very green in the dim light. She didn’t see how that was possible, but he said it with such authority that Dawn just nodded. “I believe that I will find myself back in England, in my own time, before I meet Liam, Dru and Darla.”

“But won’t you remember any of this? Won’t you remember me and Buffy?” She sounded sad. Yet another person in her life was going away. This time it would be for ever and this was someone she liked very much indeed.

The man who would one day in the past become William the Bloody shook his head. “I doubt it, Miss Dawn. But who knows. When we meet again in Sunnydale, you told me we became friends very quickly.”

Dawn nodded, her eyes dark pools of concern in her white face. “I always liked Spike. He never treated me as if I was just a kid.”

William squeezed her fingers again. “Well, perhaps this is why! When I become Spike, part of me deep down will remember what happened here and so we will find it simple to be friends right from the start.”

Dawn seemed comforted and Buffy found herself smiling, too. It made a certain sort of sense, even to her. Then she glanced down at Spike and her smile faded. Why wouldn’t he speak to her? The fire that blazed out of his eyes was directed at her alone. She knew what that passion meant and her whole being thrilled to it. But she also knew that whenever she used the dividing rod, she was tempting fate. Buffy had never had great confidence in any of the demon artefacts she’d had to work with in the past. OK, this one had been efficient – sort of – up till now, but at any time it could explode or vanish and kill them all.

She sent her senses flying outwards, tendrils of emotion and feeling seeking their mates. Love, desire and need – she could feel them all from her three claimed loves. It poured through her and over her and she wondered if she could ever feel this happy again.

Buffy stretched her mind further and isolated William – warm, loving, compassionate, a poet’s sensitive mind, an honourable man whose loyalty she would never doubt. She reached out to find Spike and Demon – and almost passed out as she was met by a fierce jumble of desire, anger, passion, hurt, rage and menace and an overwhelming need…..she remembered the old prophecy that had started this whole train of events, “past and present merged must be by love, desire and need times three.”

Well, all of those she could feel in her three boys and the strongest of those was need….a need to be loved that transcended everything else. And suddenly she knew with a burning certainty that defied logic, exactly where this overpowering emotion was coming from.

Trapped inside Demon’s body, the part of Spike that still existed was struggling to make his girl understand. The man she was holding so tenderly across her lap, the man whose hair she was stroking, was pure Demon. Not Spike, not even William, but the demon who’d entered his body when he’d been sired. 

Spike didn’t think Demon would harm Buffy; she’d claimed all of them; she was part of them now. But he couldn’t be certain. He could sense a dreadful need in his darker brother – a need that only Buffy could fulfil. And if she couldn’t – or wouldn’t – what would Demon do? Spike could sense the anger broiling away inside the body that had been his until so recently, an anger that Spike was used to, had managed to harness over the years and keep under control. But now that part of him was alive and free from all the restraints the William part had placed on him. And he was lying in the arms of the woman they all loved!

But as bad as Demon was, or could be, he was part of them and Spike would always protect him with his life. But what if Buffy didn’t realise - he had no way of telling her. The body he was in refused to speak and, oddly, he could see that Demon was having the same problem.

Buffy pulled her hair free from the band holding it off her face. She wasn’t afraid – she didn’t think she would ever feel real fear again. How could she when she was supported by this love that would never waver or change? But what she was going to do next was dangerous – she knew that. And this time she definitely didn’t want Dawn involved.

“Dawn – do you feel well enough to warm up some blood for William?” she asked. “There’s some in the freezer. Just defrost it. He must eat before - before he goes back.”

Her sister looked at her suspiciously. There was a note in Buffy’s voice that puzzled her. “You won’t send William away before I say goodbye, will you?”

Buffy smiled at her. “No. I promise.”

“Shall I do enough for all three of them?”

“Hey, yes, great idea. They all need to eat.” The longer Dawn was away upstairs, the better.

Silence fell as the teenager’s footsteps faded and the door to the basement slammed shut behind her. Buffy took a deep breath and reached over Spike’s body to where Demon lay, long, greasy hair threshing, yellow skinned, taloned hands stretching out to her. Without hesitation she caught one of the flailing hands and stared down into the slitted golden eyes that gleamed up at her under bony brows – Spike’s face, but smeared into ugliness.

“Listen to me – believe me - I understand!” she whispered, half aloud and half in her head. A torrent of emotion flooded her mind and she fought to keep her concentration. She had to make him back off, otherwise they were heading for disaster. “You once asked me if I trusted you. Remember? I said never. But now I do. With our lives. So do you trust me? Will you trust me?”

The bony hand tightened around hers, the talons digging in her palm until the pain was almost unbearable, then, slowly, it relaxed. Demon’s threshing ceased and he lay still, gazing up at her. Buffy could feel the passion and desire gentle down and knew that, for the moment, she could go ahead. Taking a deep breath she let go the hand and eased herself back to Spike’s body. She bent over him, her long blonde hair swinging down across her cheeks to touch the face she loved so much.

Blue eyes blazed up at her; it was uncanny – he looked like Spike, felt like Spike – but every nerve cell in her body was telling her that this was Demon! How she knew, she didn’t know, but she was right; of that she had not a shadow of doubt.

She touched her lips to his – and the sensation sent tremors flooding through her body. Her grip on him tightened and part of her knew that any ordinary guy would have been wincing in agony by now. The mouth under hers was eager, questing, but it wasn’t Spike’s kiss. She shut her eyes and let her lips move across his and their tongues dance. Then she broke the contact, reached up and placed her hands on either side of his face. ‘Demon - ?’ she said softly inside her head. ‘I know it’s you.’

No words answered her, but a rush of fear, hunger, confusion and – most of all – need, cascaded through her veins. The power was such she swayed where she sat; listening to a roaring in her head, the basement circling round as giddiness overcame her. She took another deep breath.

‘You don’t need to hide from me. You are me. I am you. I know you need me, need Spike and William. And I need you. More than you will ever realise. You’re what makes Spike himself. You’re what gives him the passion for life and love that William never had. You’re what makes him the man he is. If he didn’t have you inside him, even if he spends all his time keeping you under control, then he wouldn’t be the man I love. So he needs you, William needs you, I need you!’

Pain and doubt clouded her mind and from deep beneath the swirling emotions, Buffy could hear one word clearly, ‘Me?’

She understood immediately on every level – as part of this quartet, as a woman and as a Slayer who had always wanted to be loved as Buffy Summers, not just because of what she was. Demon, living inside this body, melded with William to become Spike, had no identity of his own. Now, for the first time in how many years, he was separate and wanted to know, before he was sent back into the dark once more, Am I loved? Who needs me?

‘Yes, you. Part of Spike, part of me now. Together. Need you always.’ The thoughts flowed from Buffy and she knew that both Demon and Spike could hear them. 

Slowly the violent feelings ebbed away and Buffy bent her head and kissed the mouth that was Spike’s - but not - knowing Demon would realise this kiss, this gesture of love, was for him alone.

A door slammed, Dawn clattered down the stairs, holding mugs of blood precariously in each hand. She came into the cage, gave one to William and then hesitated, staring down at Spike and Demon.

“Buffy?”

“Go ahead, Dawnie. They won’t hurt you. They must feed.”

“Does Demon drink blood? I mean, he isn’t a vampire, is he? And I know he’s part of the whole Spike/William thingy, but he’s still a bit icky, isn’t he?”

Buffy helped Spike/Demon to sit up, leaning against the bars of the cage. “Feed Spike,” she said to Dawn and taking the third mug, she put her hand under Demon/Spike’s greasy head and held the liquid to his lips. Yellow eyes flashed up at her as he drank and she could hear myriad thank-yous in her head from everyone! 

“When are you going to do it?” Dawn asked at last.

“Now,” Buffy said briefly. There was no point in waiting. Her boys were getting weaker the longer they were apart. She turned to William. “Is that OK with you?”

He reached up a slender hand and grasped her arm. “Certainly, Miss Buffy.”

“William – ” she hesitated. What could she say? That the time they’d spent together on the island had been wonderful. That she would always remember him because he was part of her. Jeez, there weren’t words invented to express how she felt.

He smiled, the blue of his eyes as gentle as a summer breeze. “We have already met, don’t forget, Miss Buffy,” he said. “Spike told me you could have killed him right at the beginning, when you had a chance. Why did we have that instant attraction, right from the very beginning? I think it was because the me part of Spike remembered this in some way. What do you say in these strange times, “we had history”?

“How will we know you get back safely to your own time?” Dawn asked, her voice concerned.

William clambered to his feet, holding on to the bars of the cage for support. He took Dawn’s hand, raised it to his lips and kissed it. “Because Spike exists,” he said simply. “I go back now and one day soon, in my world, I meet Dru, Liam and Darla.” He turned to Buffy and for a second, Spike’s wicked, sexy expression came into his eyes. “I just wish I would have time to show Cecily some of the things I have learnt while I was here! But when it happens, I will be glad and go willingly with Dru to meet my fate, because somewhere inside me I will know what awaits me in the future.” He sank to his knees and put his arms round Spike and Demon, holding them close to his chest. “Do it quickly, Miss Buffy, and remember. We are now all one.”

Buffy picked up the Ferula-Gemina, twirled it round like a baton and pointed it at the three men she loved so dearly. There was a brilliant yellow flash, the room shuddered and when the smoke cleared, only one body lay on the floor. 

She wasn’t in any doubt; she could feel with every nerve ending who it was, but even so she felt a small pang of relief when he opened his eyes, raked fingers through the platinum curls and said, “OK, Slayer. I’m back!”

Buffy went to wrap her arms round him, then stopped. Dawn had flung herself at Spike and was hugging him. He was staring at Buffy over the top of the teenager’s dark head and Buffy’s heart and stomach flipped. There were a lot of questions in those eyes and she had a feeling that he wasn’t going to be too happy with some of her replies!

To be concluded.

 

Last part coming up very soon.


	24. In Every Possible Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which questions are asked and answered.

Chp 24 In every possible way

 

High above Sunnydale, a million billion light years away, the stars swung in the sky, cold and uncaring of the turmoil taking place beneath them. Their light eased the darkness of the night: there was no moon to steal their thunder. Buffy Summers sat on the top of the porch steps and gazed up at the night sky, wondering how many Slayers the stars had watched over in the past, how many they would see come and go in the future. She sighed and groaned, easing the aches in her shoulders. Had any of the other Slayers had such a weird life as hers?

Emotionally and physically exhausted, Dawn had finally gone to bed, collapsing into a deep sleep, still fully dressed. Buffy had looked into her room and pulled an afghan up over her. She hadn’t even moved. Dawn had been – surprising - this evening: surprising and astonishing. Buffy felt a surge of pride in her little sister. Though perhaps she should change that to “younger sister”. Little made her sound insignificant and tonight Dawn had shown that she had the courage, initiative and loyalty of someone twice her age.

She knew Spike was standing behind her before he spoke but she didn’t turn round. She smiled; certain she was the only Slayer ever who’d been happy to have a vampire at her back and not be afraid.

“Buffy, we need to talk.”

She sighed. “Jeez, we’re so not going to have all the jealousy crap, are we? Listen, I had sex with William, I enjoyed it, I was missing you – I thought I’d lost you - and he was you! Well, you before you were you. A sort of you without the you. End of story.”

Spike sat down beside her on the step. “Ignoring the fact that you’re trying to fry my brain, did I mention you and William and sex? Sounds like a guilty conscience to me.”

Buffy glared at him. There was a suspicion of laughter in his voice. “I’ve nothing to be guilty about. I was a single girl with no ties. You’d turned into William, but it was still you. It felt – right.”

“I know.”

“How much do you remember?”

He reached over and ran a finger round her cheek, down her neck and across her collarbone, his touch feather light. “I’ve all of William’s memories, pet. So – pretty much everything. Must admit, losing one’s virginity for a second time is quite an interesting experience. Hard to remember I was ever that innocent. Well, hard is probably the wrong word to use! Mind you, it does explain my first time with Dru…”

“I so do not need to hear any more about – ”

“I mean, I can remember she was astounded by some of the things I seemed to know instinctively what to do to her, but of course, she couldn’t know that you’d already taught William – !”

He grinned and effortlessly caught Buffy’s fist which was swinging, admittedly not at full speed, towards his nose. He wrapped his hand around her fingers and pulled her into his arms. Buffy went willingly, lying with her head on his shoulder, her hair spilling across his arm in a blonde cascade.

“Do you think William got back safely?”

Spike tangled his fingers in her hair and tugged gently. “He must have done, pet, otherwise I wouldn’t be here, would I?”

“Was it weird, seeing your own body but hearing William speaking?”

Spike fell silent. How could he ever explain to her how that had felt? To be confronted by the person you used to be, to know what you’d lost, what you’d gained. He wondered if Buffy could understand what William must have felt – knowing that this was what and where his path in life would lead. Had he been horrified, disgusted or - pleased and excited? Being William, being a gentleman, he hadn’t said. Spike’s ability to say exactly what was on his mind at any time regardless of whether or not it was appropriate was yet to be. He realised that Buffy was still waiting for his answer. “Yes, weird, but listen, Slayer. We have to talk. What happened between you, me, William and – ” 

“I call him Demon.”

“Bloody hell! Giving him a name doesn’t change anything. He’s the evil git who lives in my body and don’t ever forget that. He’s bad, Buffy, and he’ll never be anything else. He might love us, but he’s still wicked as sin. But we claimed you, Buffy. The three of us. And what’s worse, you claimed us back. All of us and that includes Demon. Why? That’s what I don’t understand.”

“We needed the three of you to do the charm to fight The Master,” Buffy muttered. She didn’t want to talk, she just wanted to sit here, feeling warm and secure and loved.

“You would have slaughtered him on your own, eventually. You’ve done it before.”

“You’re forgetting the “all Aurealians will die” bit.”

“Would that have been such a big loss, pet? OK, I’d have popped my clogs but it would have got rid of a bloody large number of vamps scattered across the world. Oh - and Liam. I suppose that’s why – Oooof!” He gasped as the hand that was trailing absently between his thighs flashed upwards and grabbed – hard.

“Jeez, so sorry. Did that hurt? Good! And the next time you start speaking nonsense, I’ll do it again. It had nothing to do with Angel and everything to do with us. I claimed you all because – because I wanted to! Me, Buffy Summers. It was the right thing, the only thing, the most important thing I’ve ever done in my life.”

Eyes watering, Spike was still trying to speak. “And neutering me is going to help how?” he gasped at last.

Buffy sat up and tossed her hair back defiantly. “You know I’m right. I can feel that you do. Why are you questioning us? Is it –” her voice faded and shook slightly – “are you sorry for what’s happened? Is that it? Do you want to end the claim? Is that even possible?” She shuddered, her mind in turmoil. Men she loved left her; that was a given in her life. Angel, Parker, Riley, her Dad - There was something about her that sent them flying as far away from the Slayer as they could. So it wasn’t that odd that Spike would want a get out clause from this problem. How would he feel now that everything he felt was being shared by her? He said he loved her, but this intimacy could shatter that in a second.

Moving with the speed that could still confound her, Spike stood up and pulled her roughly into his arms. He tilted her face and kissed her, hard, thoroughly, giving and asking for no mercy. “You can’t break a claim,” he said urgently. “I’ve never claimed anyone, ever before, and I don’t understand everything it means. But I do know that that’s it for us now. We belong. But even if you could, I’d rather dust myself than give you up.”

“Well, that sounds like a good option to us!”

Buffy spun round, startled. Xander and Willow were walking across the yard from the bushes that led out onto the street and, from the expression on their faces, they hadn’t come bearing cakes and flowers.

Willow was clutching a small shabby book covered in tattered red leather – clutching it as if it was her most precious possession in the entire world. “Buffy – you’re OK! And Dawn? She – well – she ran away from us, Buffy. We don’t know where she went.”

“And you’ve been busy hunting for her, of course.” Spike’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

“No one’s talking to you, Bleach Boy,” Xander said angrily. “Of course we’ve been looking for her – Anya still is - but we reckoned she’d come back here.”

“She did and she’s OK,” Buffy said. 

Willow gazed round the yard. “William and that creature - ?”

“William’s returned to Victorian England and Demon’s back where he belongs, inside me,” Spike said.

“Oh, how did you… well, that’s…that’s good. I mean, I liked William…he seemed OK…I mean for a vampire…”

“It’s a pity you didn’t stay William once you’d been turned,” Xander broke in.

Buffy felt Spike tense next to her physically and the anger and disdain rushed through the link between them. So this was what it would be like from now on. She would feel everything he felt, he would experience her emotions as strongly as she did herself. Was there a way of shielding each other from these sensations? Well, it was going to be interesting to find out.

“Buffy – we want to talk to you about the claiming thingy,” Willow said, still nervously clutching the book. “I know how dreadful you must feel now. You had a good reason for doing it – but you don’t have to stay trapped like this. I think I know a way of dissolving it – OK, it isn’t absolutely foolproof and this is a very old book – but it’s worth a try because at least it should lessen the dependence, free you from being dominated.”

“I wondered how long it would take you to find a way!” Spike stared at the redhead, wondering just why she was so against him. The whelp he could understand – unrequited love could make you bitter – but Red – there was something underneath her concern he couldn’t fathom, but it had to do with being the plain gawky ‘friend’ of a pretty girl, the ‘good mate’ to the man she’d loved for so much of her life. Becoming a witch, having an affair with Oz and now loving Tara – none of that made any difference to the angry, sad little girl inside who’d never really believed in herself. Sometimes he wondered what would happen when she did and a shudder ran through him.

“I’m glad you both came over,” Buffy was saying and Spike felt the hairs on the back of his neck wriggle. There was a note in her voice he’d never heard before, an emotion coursing through her he’d never felt. “I wanted to talk to you both, too.”

“Let’s go indoors,” Xander said cheerfully. “We can probably get it all done by morning. Don’t let’s keep you, Spike. I’m sure you’ve got some dirty little scheme you’re aching to work on.”

“Oh, out here’s fine,” Buffy said casually. “It won’t take long.”

Spike stared up at the pitiless stars. So, she’d made up her mind to try and end the claim. Why had he ever thought she wouldn’t? For all her fine words about claiming them because she wanted to, when the first chance of escaping was offered to her – even if it was only half a chance - she was only too keen to see if it would work. But perhaps her friends were right and what had happened was bloody tragic. All he wanted – all he’d ever wanted! - was for Buffy to be happy. The link that now existed between them – would this give her joy or untold unhappiness? 

Willow looked worried. “Hey, I’m not sure about it being quick, Buffy. I mean there’s ingredients to find and a spell to work out and – now let me see – ”

She was busy turning over the pages, muttering to herself. Buffy watched her and Xander. These were her best friends: the powerful witch who’d once, many years ago, listened to all her hopes and dreams, and the man who’d never faltered in his courage when faced with a world in which he had no powers. Once she would have sworn a million times over that they would never hurt her, never betray her. But tonight – they didn’t want what was right for her – they wanted what they thought was right. 

And she felt the raw flick of guilt, because in some ways she was to blame. She’d never said anything as the years had passed, never stopped them interfering where they shouldn’t. If she was honest, she’d enjoyed being the centre of their world, the one who got all the attention and care. Being the Slayer made her special. It had felt good to have her friends worry about her.  
So they’d become addicted to running her life and, like all addicts, they couldn’t give it up. Whatever she said to them, it would make no difference. They would just rationalise her words, believe that Spike was controlling her, that Demon was somehow turning her evil. They would never believe that she loved Spike and wanted him to be part of her life.

“Buffy?” Spike’s voice cut into her thoughts, and she sensed his warning and concern. How had he guessed that she was going to tell them exactly what she thought of their disloyalty, their betrayal of years of friendship? “Don’t.”

He could feel the anger inside her, building and growing, like water behind a dam that was just about to burst. And when it did, Willow and Xander would be swept away, demolished by the power of her hurt. Because what she hadn’t yet realised was that now everything she did was boosted by his strength as well. And as much as he disliked them, he didn’t want to see them destroyed.

“Will – Xander – put the book away and listen to me. There’ll be no spell, no unclaiming, not now, not ever.”

Xander’s face changed, crumpled, then reformed into a determined mask. “You don’t know what you’re saying. You can’t want to stay linked to Spike!”

“He’s right, Buffy. Think what you’re doing? Listen to us. Look, are you angry because we didn’t help you earlier? Is that what this is all about, because, hey, not cool, Buffy. We’re your friends, we only want to help.”

Buffy was aware of Spike’s fingers gripping her arm and bonds of love and care mentally holding her back. But she shook her head. This had to be done. “If you really want to help, you’ll both walk away and let me and Spike get on with our lives. You made a choice, Willow; you decided not to help me, to let Spike, William and Demon die. But don’t you see, that would have killed me. Oh maybe not in a falling-over-flat-on-my-face sort of way, but inside I’d have been dead.”

“Buffy, you’re exaggerating. And anyway, we only did what was best for you.” Willow was beginning to sound annoyed. Her eyes flashed and her lips thinned.

“But why do you and Xander get to decide that?” Buffy snapped. “Who died and made you two President? This is my life, Will, and I get to choose who I spend it with – me, no one else.”

“Do we have to have this conversation in front of the vampire?” Xander asked angrily. “What’s he doing to you, Buffy? Some sort of mind control, is that it?” He took a quick step forward, fists clenched.

Buffy stared at him and unexpectedly felt a sudden surge of pity that she realised with a jolt she was receiving from Spike. Poor Xander, poor Willow. They’d never know how this felt. Whatever loves they had in their lives or would have in the future were only pale shadows of what she was now experiencing with Spike. And her anger faded away.

“Go home, both of you,” she said gently. “Xander – find Anya and tell her – that I’m happy. Thank her for looking for Dawn. But – ” she drew a deep breath and searched for Spike’s support. She didn’t have to look far for it; there it was, inside, all around, everywhere. “ – I still want to be your friend, but only if you accept me as I am. I don’t try to change you – you can’t try and change me or Spike. We’re together, in every possible way, and that is never going to alter.”

Xander turned and stumbled away without another word but Willow stood, staring at Buffy, her face white and angry. “You’ll be sorry,” she said. “Both of you!” And she flung the book onto the grass and followed Xander out of the yard.

Spike picked it up and stood, flicking through the pages. He glanced at Buffy, expecting to see tears on her face. But there were none.

“You’re one hell of a woman, Slayer. But have you ever thought they might be right? It’s a weird and wonderful path we’ve put ourselves on and I don’t bloody well know where it’s leading. A slayer and a vampire – claimed! I bet your old pal Quentin Travers would give his right arm to experiment on us.”

Buffy took the book from him and tossed it aside. She wrapped her arms round him and gloried in the strength of the man. “Are you worried?”

He bent his head and kissed her gently. “Do I feel worried?”

Buffy shut her eyes, revelling in the hardness of his body against hers and smiled. “Nooo. You feel – excited and definitely not neutered!”

Spike growled and swung her up into his arms. “I think we’ll continue this discussion indoors, Slayer. There’s the matter of your punishment for a certain very smelly bubble bath you made me take that needs my close attention.”

Buffy grinned in anticipation, wondering just what making love while claimed would feel like and knowing it would be wonderful, amazing.

Spike was right, of course. The path ahead of them was going to be rocky and difficult and she had no idea what would happen. But for tonight she sent out a silent thank-you to William and Demon and hoped that somehow they would know just what they had achieved. She was sure they would, because they were as much part of her now as she was of them.

Love, desire and need. Whatever the future held in store, she and Spike had all three.

Ends

 

Author’s Note: 

I can’t quite believe I have just written ends to this story. It has been one heck of a journey and like all good adventures ended up somewhere quite different to where it had originally been headed. How did my sexy birthday picnic story end up off canon with a claiming? I’ve no idea – they just took their story to that place and I followed, wide-eyed, writing it all down.

I know some people will not be pleased by Willow and Xander’s treatment in this story, but I felt it was right in context of the plot.

Because I’ve never written a claiming episode before, I’m afraid I’ve put my own interpretation on how it might effect Buffy and Spike. As claiming isn’t in canon, I think my ideas have as much validity as anyone else’s!

I do hope you’ve all enjoyed reading this as much as I’ve enjoyed working on it. Thank you all for helpful and kind reviews. They made the task that much easier. Do let me know what you feel now the story has ended.


End file.
